The Graveyard's Boy
by DoubleoTrouble
Summary: Adam finally escapes the cage... but he's become a demon. And now, finally free, he sets out to find the people who wronged him, the people who left him behind in the pit to begin with... and exact revenge.
1. In the Cage

Never. They'd never once tried to get him out. Not _once._ He was their freaking brother! And what did they do? Oh, they abandoned him! Left him all on his own, with the two most argumentative brothers on the planet, using him as a metaphorical chew toy. Every day... gnawing on his soul, tearing it to pieces as they fought, and then fixing it up only to tear it apart again. He began to lose count of how many times he'd been broken. He'd begun to lose count of a lot of things in fact... he could hardly even remember his name after a while. Still, he remembered why he was there in the first place.

Sam Winchester.

Well, it wasn't _all_ his fault, of course Adam had some of the blame in accepting to be Michael's vessel... but damn it if he didn't want to blame someone else. So he did. His half-brother. Well, at first he felt sympathetic! After all... they were in that mess together weren't they? But wait- no!

Castiel got Sam out. _Isn't that great?_ Oh look! They left Adam behind! Alone in the pit with the two worst people in the universe. Castiel never thought once to take Adam with them. Still, Sam's soul was left behind. It had to have been a mistake then, right? Castiel was obviously trying to get them both out and just… miscalculated. So, he waited patiently for when Castiel would come back and try to retrieve Sam's soul, as well as Adam in the process.

At first, it wasn't too bad. Lucifer didn't care as much about Adam. Sam (or his soul in this case) was his little plaything. It wasn't _that_ bad until Death arrived. Yeah, that's right. Death.

Still, he got his hopes up. Maybe this time, _finally_ his prayers had been answered. Well, not that he even knew who he was praying to anymore.

Death instead of getting him out of that godforsaken place, grabbed Sam's soul, and left, leaving Adam, alone.

Alone with Satan and his big brother.

It was at that point, that he completely lost hope of ever getting out.

He couldn't remember how the sky used to look.

He couldn't even remember what colour it was. He wasn't able to picture it in his head. All he could picture was the darkness of the cage.

It was so dark in there. Just so dark. So dark so dark so dark so dark so dark, darker and darker and darker and darker and _darker and darker and darker—_

Lucifer was angry.

Michael was bored.

Adam, was alone.

Well, even a simpleton could do the math at that point. It felt like centuries he'd spent there as their toy. It very well could be, for all he knew. But… he had gradually begun to stop caring. Pieces of his soul were scattered everywhere, and the shards were slowly beginning to darken.

Every time he was torn apart, they grew a shade darker. And eventually, they were pitch black. Lucifer wasn't too surprised to see what Adam's soul had turned into, but Michael was beyond shocked. If he hadn't just divulged in the same torture Lucifer was inflicting upon Adam, one might have thought he'd felt bad for the kid.

So, simply put, Adam was a demon. Albeit, not a powerful one, but due to his new identity, he'd begun viewing Lucifer differently. Sure, he was Satan, but he didn't deserve to be in this cage. Neither did he! Why was he there in the first place!?

…Sam.

It was all Sam's fault! But… how would he get to him? There had to be a way out! There just had to! But, smartly enough, there was. A way no one had ever realized before.

After all, why was it so difficult for demons to get near the cage? Why was it just so damn hard to open the pit? Well, demons weren't meant to be there, you see.

He'd begun to realize that now when the angels messed with his soul, pieces of it didn't return. They just at the time seemed to inexplicably disappear. But ever so slowly, he found he was in two places at once. In one consciousness, he was being tortured, non-stop in the pit. But… as it grew stronger… the parts of his soul that had leaked out of the pit, were waking up.

At first it was little things, he'd catch a glimpse of the cemetery where they had all fallen into the pit. Just for a split second- and then he was back to the torture. But, every now and then, he'd hear the sounds of birds chirping, he'd feel wind on his face… He'd smell the scent of rain and wet dirt.

So, even as the brothers tore him apart, he felt this sense of relief, though he couldn't even tell what was happening.

Sometimes, when Adam reached the point where the tortures were too much on his body in hell, he'd die- only to be brought back once more by Lucifer.

It was on one such occasion, when instead of that brief moment of nothingness… he realized he could see light. He looked around, and all around him were graves. The sun was beaming down on him and-

Lucifer jabbed a knife into his side, and began hanging things off the handle, forcing the blade to cut upwards. No! There had to be a way back to that graveyard. Adam's thoughts were focused entirely on getting away from the pit and back to the cemetery. Whatever had just happened, he was positive that it wasn't part of the tortures he'd endured. There had never been anything after his body died; he'd feel nothing for a moment and then be brought back.

For ages after that had occurred, it was all Adam could think about- he'd been so close to the real world. The smells had begun to get stronger, and even when Lucifer and Michael played with him, he could focus on the soft sound of wind… rushing through the leaves of trees, in cacophony with the sounds of tearing flesh. He closed his eyes.

He could picture it so clearly- standing tall in that cemetery. To his left, was a grave marked Nathaniel Taylor. To his right, was a tree standing tall above him. There was a bird's nest in its leafless branches, long abandoned by its owners. He wondered where they'd gone. He looked at the ground, surprised to see it frozen, and dead. He couldn't remember what it meant when the world looked that way. He tried to look at the sky- as he turned, he felt a sharp, cold wind, and it shocked him into opening his eyes.

Lucifer had cut off his head. He looked around frantically to see his body writhing, still alive. It collapsed moments after, the life gone from it. Still, for whatever reason, his head was still living. He could still see, still move his mouth, and still think.

Michael picked up his head and tossed it over to Lucifer, who had broken off a bone from Adam's body. He forced the dull end of the bone into the ground, and then he jabbed Adam's head onto it.

The brothers stood back, admiring their work, laughing quietly to themselves as Adam's eyes moved around.

He couldn't feel anything but pain in his neck. He tried to move his fingers, his toes… all the while knowing it was futile, but still growing in fear when he couldn't. Why wasn't his body dead yet!? He just wanted to die. Maybe when he did, he could see the cemetery again.

Instead, Lucifer knelt down beside his handiwork, and using another one of Adam's bones as a knife, he cut out one of Adam's eyes.

Adam wanted to scream in pain. Blood gushed from his eye socket, pouring down his face, and then finally dripping down the bone he was perched upon. It had begun to pool on the ground, and Adam wanted nothing else but to die.

He could feel the bone piercing into his skull, scraping at it as Adam moved even the slightest bit. His one eye darted back and forth, mouth gasping for breath, making his neck bleed more, as the air couldn't find his lungs.

Lucifer laughed. He ruffled Adam's hair, letting his fingers linger on his scalp. He was his toy. His plaything. His pet. He could do whatever he wanted with him! Welcome to the pit, boy.

Welcome to your eternal hell.

 _ **What do you guys think? I'm planning for this fic to release a chapter or so every week. don't hold me to that though.**_

 _ **i just really feel inspired when i write this so... Well, here's to hoping ^^**_

 _ **Anyways, please review, i'd love to see what you guys think! Okay, well, i'mma get going for now, i'll see y'all soon! (hopefully)**_


	2. Halfway

The graves were beautiful. They had intricate designs flowing around the words that indicated the lives that had once been lived. Patterns of roses, of leaves, and of crosses surrounding a name. It was an eerie notion, but yet, so nice in theory. They were remembered, even once those that brought flowers to their headstones had long since been buried beneath their own. Someone could look at this grave, and remember their name.

Adam read the headstone to his left, starting to wonder who this man had been.

 _Nathaniel Taylor_

 _Loving Husband and Father_

 _1963-2002_

What of his children? His spouse? What about them? He couldn't see any other graves with the name 'Taylor'. It was a sad thought that all the others had lost him. Adam looked to his right.

The tree was covered in lightly coloured buds, and snowdrops littered the ground beneath it. There were dozens upon dozens growing there, although they looked as though they were reaching the end of their short life. The graveyard smelled sweet, soft, reflecting in the delicate white petals of the flowers.

All was silent in the cemetery. It was still. Adam tried his hardest to keep his mind from drifting back to the pit, and looked around a bit more. He was standing on the spot he had fallen into the pit from, he realized. It had been dug up, and several headstones marred the patch of grass where they fell.

He didn't dare to try moving, because he was sure that once he did, he would be brought back to the pit.

Back to the torture.

Off in the distance he saw a car pull up beside the graveyard: a blue sedan. A woman left the front seat, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She walked among the headstones, finally stopping in front of one, and kneeling down in front of it.

She put her hands together in a prayer, and Adam watched her intently.

She was the first person he had seen since entering the pit.

The woman began to speak, talking to the grave- or rather to the person buried within it. She sat down in a more relaxed fashion in front of the headstone, talking about what had been happening in her life. She'd gotten a new boyfriend, but, she didn't think it would last long.

Well, if you'd believe it, she's actually been seeing some other people while she's been dating him. She's sorry, but she has changed a bit since you left. She still loves you though; you're in her day to day thoughts.

Oh, she saw this model sailboat while shopping just last week! Immediately she thought of you. She wanted to buy it, maybe leave it here for you, but money's tight right now, and she's got to care for herself as well. But, oh you would've loved it.

You bought her a ship like that a few years ago. She was so afraid how you'd react when the anchor fell off its side, accidentally having snapped, but all you said was that it was a cheap build. She still has it- she put the model up on the mantel of her fireplace, among some other trinkets.

She loves you, and hopes you're having a good time in heaven. She'll see you again when she has time, but it might be a while. She's gone back to school- law school actually, so it's taking up a lot of time. Goodbye for now. She'll keep you in her prayers.

After a moment of silence, she stood up, brushed off the dirt from her pants and put one of her hands to her lips. She kissed it, and pressed it against the gravestone, before leaving the cemetery. The car started up with a low rumble, and Adam watched as it drove away, once more leaving him alone in the cemetery.

Someone was tapping on his shoulder. He turned to look and saw Lucifer, hacking off his arm.

He looked around, and saw nothing but the pit. He was wracked with disappointment. Why couldn't he stay at the cemetery longer!?

He'd realized by that point, that it wasn't just his imagination. He was really… _there._ He'd been able to leave the pit even for just that short time. He can get out. For the first time in centuries, he felt hopeful. He could be free, and he could see the sky once more.

He could see other people- he could… he could find the Winchesters. Show them how wrong they were for leaving him behind!

And… his wish was slowly coming true. Every time he managed to get himself to the cemetery, he stayed just a bit longer every time. And as years seemed to pass in the cage, he found that he was able to explore the graveyard.

He now knew every crevice of it, knew every name on every gravestone. This cemetery belonged to him now, it was his freedom.

By that point he'd realized what he was. He'd caught glimpses of it as he moved around- this dark black smoke etching through the air. That was him, his soul. He didn't have a body on earth, no roots to keep him there.

But even as he traversed the land above, he could feel what his body was feeling. He wasn't fully out of the pit, and he had to stay focused on the cemetery to stay within it. If his mind lingered to the cage… he was forced to see what was happening. To feel it so intensely, though he wasn't all there, not complete anymore.

Half of his soul was on earth, whereas the other half, was trapped in the pit with Lucifer.

He felt free, when at the same time he hadn't left the cage.

He could get away from it. He was sure of it.

Now… all he needed was a vessel.

 _ **Okay, so I plan on updating every Tuesday, and about a 1000 words (minimum) per chapter if that sounds all right with y'all.**_

 _ **Anyways, please review, and hope you enjoyed!**_


	3. From the Edge

_**A/N Thanks for all the reviews guys! Here's this week's chapter as a thank you~**_

It wasn't too hard to find a vessel, but Adam had to venture out of the cemetery to do so. It was difficult to leave. Whenever he tried it felt as though an invisible force was keeping him back. However, this time he managed to drift down the road leading away from the cemetery. He kept looking back and forth, expecting to see the pit, but instead he just saw houses and cars: indications of human life.

He wondered what it felt like to possess someone. Would he hear their thoughts as well as his own? That would definitely be confusing. He ventured into the town, and found people everywhere, but still… he didn't want just _anyone._ This was his first vessel! It had to be special.

Someone… interesting. Then he saw him. On one of the high rises stood a young man. He had dark hair and tan skin… and was standing on the edge of the building, ready to jump. Spectators murmured beneath him, sounding scared as they saw him near the edge. Adam wondered what the guy's story was.

The man looked content as he was about to take his last step off the edge. Adam's pitch black soul rushed upwards and into the man's body.

He blinked, stepping backwards, and away from the threshold. He held his hands in front of him, flexing his fingers. Was… was this real? Did he really have a body?! He walked in a circle to confirm it. He was doing this. He was moving! He was alive!

Adam looked up at the sky for the first time. For even when he was in the cemetery, he hadn't been able to look at it without being brought back to the cage.

It was… supposed to be brighter, right? But as he looked around at the world, he realized how dark it all looked to him. It was the middle of the day, and yet…

He clutched his head, scrunching his eyes shut. The moment he did, the darkness became so much clearer.

 _Lucifer was making him dance._

He opened his eyes, and nearly cried when he could still see the images. But, he was still on earth, right? Right!? He tapped his foot against the ground. Yeah… still here. He'd managed to keep himself on earth, despite the flash.

Adam glanced over the edge of the building and forced a laugh.

"You're gonna' be stuck with me for a while, buddy," He said to his vessel, "I'm not letting you escape that easily. Besides, death isn't all it's hyped up to be."

 _He was forced to cut his own throat, mid-dance._

Adam focused back on the sky. Look at it. Look at it! The sky is right there! It's not a trick. He was really here. He was alive again.

His expression relaxed when he saw a cloud drift by. It was so soft… just the most innocent earthly thing. A cloud, in an endless sky. Wind brushed Adam's hair back and he couldn't help but smile. He was free. He was alive. He blinked quickly, and then bent down, running his fingers along the ground. He closed his eyes, just focusing on the feeling of the cold stone, rough on his hand. He felt human again.

Adam stood up, and took a deep breath. He turned to look for an entrance to the building, and when he saw it he moved towards it. He climbed down the staircase, and saw a long hallway. Towards the end he spotted an elevator, and got onto it.

 _Blood was pouring out of his throat and onto Lucifer's shoes._

He grinned when he saw the buttons, and made a note of pressing every single one. He'd always wanted to do that anyways. Once the elevator finally reached the lobby of the building, Adam took his vessel's phone out of his pocket. He spotted a search bar, and looked at it thoughtfully. After a moment, highly doubting he'd get any results, he typed in 'Dean and Sam Winchester'.

Immediately he got tons of hits. News reports stating that his half-brothers were murderers and wanted by the police. Stories of two psychopaths. They definitely hadn't improved their reputation since the last time Adam had seen them.

He wondered if he'd be able to find them- that seemed pretty unlikely, even for someone who'd managed to escape Hell.

 _He had to spit shine Lucifer's shoes. He couldn't draw up any spit from his mouth and all that came out was blood._

He could probably ask another demon if they knew of the Winchester's location. Still, he'd have to explain who he was—oh just freaking hell. Apparently finding the Winchesters wouldn't be as easy a task as he had originally thought.

 _A cut appeared on Adam's wrist every time he unsuccessfully tried to clean Lucifer's shoes._

The other demons would probably hate Adam. After all, he was part of the reason their esteemed leader was torn away from the world and cast back into the cage.

Still, it was worth a shot wasn't it!? Someone had to know _something_ about the Winchesters!

 _He could feel himself fading, as the blood poured from so many wounds on his body. Yet he was still conscious, still in so much pain._

Adam took off the tie his vessel had been wearing, and left the building. His man drifted from the Winchesters and to his vessel. He began to wonder just what this guy's story was. The hell was he trying to kill himself for?

 _The pain was gone for a brief second, and he felt himself die. Immediately after, his eyes burst open and Lucifer and Michael were both watching him._

Maybe it had to do with the suit. Did he go on a date and his girlfriend dumped him? Maybe he'd been fired. Whatever.

 _"_ _Good morning, Adam."_

He had to focus. Keep his mind away from the pit. Sam. Dean.

Well, there was _one_ way he could be sure they'd show up. He could simply kill a bunch of people. They'd arrive thinking they were going to 'gank some monster' but no… what they'd find was their little half-brother back from the dead.

 _Michael pulled him up by his hair, looking into his eyes, "Doesn't he seem kind of different to you, Lucifer?"_

Adam decided the first thing he'd do would be kill his vessel's family (if he had any of course). It was cold-hearted, but it sounded smart. He'd lure his half-brothers out with the thought of a 'case', and then he'd punish them for what they did to him. He took out his vessel's phone again, looking through the contacts. The first one to come up was his mother's. Adam checked for an address, and then ordered a taxi.

 _"_ _Yeah, sure. Does it matter?" Lucifer sighed, rubbing his eye, "We've been down here so long it really shouldn't be a surprise the kid's gone blank."_

He paid the cabbie with some cash his vessel had on him, and eventually arrived at his mother's. place. It was a quaint little home, and just from looking at it you could tell it was lived in. Some shingles had fallen off the roof, and the garage was in need of a new paint-job, but the garden was full of gorgeous flowers of all colours. They were extremely well kept, and Adam stopped to smell one of them before heading up to the door. It had such a delicate scent… He stood on the welcome mat, and rang the doorbell.

A kind looking woman with dark hair and the same coloured skin as him opened the door. She was wearing an apron that was spattered with flour, and her left cheek was smeared with dough. Adam wondered what she had been cooking, as he smiled down at her.

"Andy!" She said with an airy voice, "What are you doing here?"

Andy, huh? Adam ran a hand through his hair, the smile still on his face.

"Well, what are you standing out there for? Come in! I just baked some cookies if you'd like one." She stepped back, allowing Adam to come inside the house. It was pretty spacious, and brightly coloured wallpaper lined the walls, drawing his eyes. She led him to a bright yellow kitchen and he immediately began scanning the counter for knives. Come on, this woman had to have something lying around, right?

 _"_ _I'm bored." Lucifer yawned, "Want to play poker?" He twirled his finger in the air and Adam felt his bones being torn out from under his skin. They flew through the air towards Lucifer, and flattened, turning into a deck of cards._

She turned her back on him to reach for the cookies she had put on top of the stove, and Adam's eyes fell on a rolling pin. Well, it wasn't the most dignified way to kill someone, but it would do.

He picked it up, and began to raise it over her head when the woman turned around. She pursed her eyebrows.

"Andy? What are you doing?"

Adam faltered, "I um…"

"Well, put that down, then! If you don't you can't have any of my double chocolate cookies!" She sang, holding out the plate of cookies before her.

Adam squinted, and then sighed resignedly letting his arm fall to his side. He took a cookie, and bit into it. And fuck if it wasn't delicious.

"Good, huh?"

Adam leaned against the counter, chewing on the cookie. Okay, maybe he should have killed her already, but in his defence, these were pretty good… not that he'd tasted anything other than his own blood for the past few centuries.

He said softly, "Yeah. They're good."

She beamed, and set down the plate of cookies, taking one herself, "So, Andy… I know you haven't been feeling too well recently, but I want you to know, if you ever want to talk, that I'm here for you."

Adam chewed on the cookie thoughtfully. Should he kill her now? She was right _there_. What was stopping him?

"Andy?"

He looked up, "Hm?"

"You seem… different today," She looked at what she thought to be her son worriedly, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." If you didn't count the fact that Lucifer was playing poker with his bones.

"Well, on a lighter note… did you see Lindsey? I mean… did you give her the ring? Am I going to be a mother-in-law!?" The woman grinned from ear to ear. She leaned forward, awaiting her son's answer.

Adam stared at her confused. So… his vessel was going to ask someone to marry him? Did she refuse? Still, that still doesn't seem like grounds to _kill_ himself.

 _"_ _Royal flush." Michael smirked, gathering up the poker chips they'd made out of Adam's ribs._

 _Lucifer scowled, and glanced over at Adam, who was lying on the ground, bleeding from the various wounds on his body. It was a wonder he was still alive…. He just wanted to die so he could wake up again. Just for that brief moment of nothingness._

Adam scowled when the image flashed though his mind and the woman moved forward, "Andy!? Are you alright?"

"Yeah… I'm fine. Let's just say the whole engagement thing didn't pan out."

"Oh honey I'm so sorry!" She moved forward and took his hand, "I know how much you liked Lindsey. I'm so sorry. Oh come here!" She engulfed him in a hug.

Adam was overwhelmed.

No one…

No one had made any gesture of kindness to him in centuries.

He flinched when he felt her skin brush over his. Fear encompassed his mind and without thinking he gripped the rolling pin, pulling away from her.

He hit the woman over the head with it… and then again. Blood was everywhere. Again. HARDER! SHE WAS GOING TO HURT YOU!

NO ONE CAN HURT YOU ANYMORE! YOU'RE A DEMON, ADAM! KILL HER.

 _"_ _KILL HER."_

Adam dropped the pin. The woman was lying on the floor, head bashed in. She had an expression of utter shock and hurt on what was left of her face.

 _Lucifer and Michael exchanged a look._

Adam was breathing heavily, and he staggered out of the kitchen, catching his appearance in the mirror. He had a wild sort of look about him, and blood covered his shirt. With a start he realized he'd have to get changed if he didn't want to attract attention.

 _"_ _Um, Adam?" Michael began._

He traipsed through the house, and found Andy's old room. He pulled on a shirt that said "game-changer" in the middle, and discarded his bloody suit and tie.

 _Lucifer was staring at Adam, confused. He snapped his fingers, and the bones returned to Adam's body._

Adam ran a hand through his hair. He wondered if maybe he should cut it.

 _"_ _What did you just say?" Lucifer asked, standing up and wandering over to where Adam was laying._

Who to kill next? Or maybe he should just write some cryptic message on the wall in blood. The latter sounded easier.

 _Lucifer pushed his foot into Adam's side, "Answer me."_

He went back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He knelt down beside the woman's body.

 _"_ _Adam!" He said threateningly._

Adam dipped his vessel's already-stained tie in the woman's blood. Carefully, he drew it up and began to write on the wall.

 _Adam's eyes were blank. Lucifer pulled him up and stared straight into them._

He ignored what he saw was going on in the pit. That- that didn't concern him now. All that mattered was the task at hand.

 _He scoffed and threw him back down, "Useless brat."_

He wrote in large letters, ' **I'M BACK, SAM!'**

Adam smirked. Whatever the Winchesters assume is going on; this would draw them to the area. He'd just have to sit back… and wait.

 _ **A/N: Okay! There we go, another chapter done. Wow, it turned out longer than expected, but uh... hope you liked.**_

 ** _So, what do you think will happen next? Will Dean and Sam show up?_**

 ** _...Mrgh, I have so many ideas. But, guess you'll find out the answers to those questions next Tuesday. See ya then!_**


	4. The Case of Gretta Taylor

_MEEP. MEEP. MEEP._

Dean groaned when he heard Sam's alarm go off. Why the hell does this guy always wake up so early?

 _MEEP. MEEP. MEEP._

Couldn't Sammy at least put his alarm to a song like he does? Anything so it's not that blaring-

 _MEEP. MEEP. MEEP._

Is he never going to shut that damn thing off!?

 _MEEP. MEEP. MEEP._

Dean pulled himself up and reached over to the table that was between their two beds, grabbed Sam's phone and shut off the alarm.

He collapsed back on his bed, not even bothering to wonder why his brother hadn't turned it off himself. He closed his eyes, falling back asleep.

 _"_ _Hell's bells! Yeah, hell's bells! You got me ringing hell's bells- my temperature's high-"_

Dean turned off the alarm on his own phone around two hours later. He yawned, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. He looked over at Sam's bed and finally it dawned on that him his brother wasn't around.

"Sammy?" He called out into the empty motel.

He pulled off the covers and got up, wearing nothing but his boxers. He looked around, and finding no trace of Sam, not even a note, he began to get a little annoyed.

He was about to call Sam's cell phone when he remembered that it was still on the bedside table. Why didn't Sam take it with him? He wandered back to the table and picked up Sam's phone. He checked the recent tabs and found his messages open.

He glanced behind him instinctually and then opened the messages. His eyes widened. Jesus, Sammy.

She was _hot_.

Dean chuckled, checking the time of the last messages, and seeing it as being 2am. Who would've thought his little brother had it in him?

He smirked and decided to wait around until Sam got back, however long that took. He put the phone back down and flopped down in front of the motel TV. He was flipping through the channels, hoping there'd be something at least half-interesting on. After watching some stupid TV show about an alien in a blue box for about thirty minutes, he flicked onto the news channel.

"A woman, Gretta Taylor, was found beaten to death this evening. Her son, Andy Taylor came to visit her, finding her dead on their kitchen floor," Said the female news reporter.

The video cut to an image of a very dishevelled young man, Dean guessed that this guy was Andy.

"I- I came to talk to her. I missed her after all. Life- life hasn't…" At this point the man took a deep breath and looked as though he was fighting back tears, "Life hasn't been too great lately. I just- I just wanted to talk to my mom! And I find her… She's all I had!"

At this point, he turned away from the camera, "I found her dead. She's my mom. She's my mom for god's sake! I don't know who would do something like this, okay? She was the nicest person I knew."

The camera cut back to the reporter, "The police are still investigating the crime scene, having found no leads except a cryptic message written on the wall in Ms. Taylor's blood."

An image appeared in the corner of the screen and Dean felt the blood drain from his face.

"If you have any information on this message or who the culprit might be, please call this number." A number flashed across the screen. Dean took the time to jot down the information of the murder.

' **I'M BACK, SAM!'**

He finished writing down the address, and looked back at the screen, staring at those words. Who did this?

Dean waited around for another twenty minutes before Sam came into the motel, a wide grin on his features.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Oh? What's that grin for?"

"Nothing."

Dean laughed, standing up, "Come on, Sammy. Who is she?"

"Dean!" Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket, "Seriously."

"Aw, come on, at least tell me Lindsey's name?"

Sam stared at him incredulously, "You looked through my phone?"

"Maybe."

He scoffed at his older brother, "Why do I put up with you?"

"Cause' I'm your brother."

"Apart from that."

Dean grinned but then his smile began to falter.

"What is it?" Sam immediately asked.

"Well," Dean began, "I think I've found us a case…"

"Okay?"

Dean then proceeded to tell him the details, including the message that had been left.

Sam's expression fell. He stood there in front of his brother in silence for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Who… who do you think it might be?"

Dean shook his head in answer, and then proceeded to go over to his side of the room and began packing his things.

Sam blinked, "Um, Dean, before you start packing, how about you get dressed first?"

Dean glanced down at himself having completely forgotten he was still in boxers. He glared at Sam.

"Shut up."

Dean grabbed his FBI clothes off the chair and moved to the bathroom to get dressed, leaving Sam alone in the room. Quickly, Sam changed into his own suit, and then sat down on his bed, thinking about the case.

Who was it… who was back? There were a lot of people who had left his life.

It… could be a ghost. Someone who he failed to save. That sounded the most likely to him, but… he couldn't remember a case from the city Ms. Taylor had died in. What was it? Lawrence, right. It was only a town over. Wasn't that where he cast Lucifer into the pit?

His speculations were cut off when Dean knocked on the bathroom door to make sure Sam wasn't caught half-naked when he entered. When Sam called back that he was decent, Dean left the bathroom, fully dressed. He grabbed his bag and glancing once more at the motel to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, he motioned to Sam to get his things as well.

Sam picked up his already packed bag (he never really unpacked it anyways) and shoved his phone from the table into his pocket.

The two brothers got into the car and began the short drive to Lawrence. They had been staying just outside of the town to take care of a werewolf problem, and were able to finish up pretty quickly but they'd decided to stay a few nights. Apparently something that Sam had profited from.

"But seriously. That Lindsey chick is hot."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean. Are we really going to keep talking about this?"

"Well yeah! What else is there to talk about?"

"There's a lot of things we could talk about other than my love life. Like this case for example."

"Aw come on, lighten up, Sammy." Dean grinned, "You were out all night. And judging from the amount you two've been texting—"

"DEAN!"

"—It's definitely not the first time."

Sam just shook his head and turned on the radio. Dean smiled snidely at his little brother before turning his eyes back to the road.

They reached the crime scene in around twenty minutes, and the two of them walked up to the police and flashed their FBI badges.

One of the policewomen looked at them in surprise, "Federal agents? Didn't think this was such a big case."

"We just go where we're assigned, ma'am." Dean said, and looked at the house, "So, when did Ms. Taylor die?"

"We're not a hundred percent sure yet, but the coroner's said that it had to have been close to six pm yesterday."

"How'd the killer do it?" Sam cut in.

"A rolling pin."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

Dean spoke up, "A… rolling pin."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Weird right? It was Ms. Taylor's rolling pin too. We're guessing it wasn't premeditated, maybe a robber broke in without knowing someone was in the house, but then there's no signs of forced entry. And then there's that weird message. Ms. Taylor didn't even know anyone named Sam."

"Thanks. Could we talk to her son?"

"Oh yeah, he's right over by the house. Poor guy. Real virgin type. Heard he was going to propose to his girlfriend and she blew him off. God, that must've been rough." The policewoman gestured over to Andy who was sitting on the steps of the house.

He looked up, and caught Sam's eye.

…If Sam didn't know better, the guy looked almost excited.

 _ **A/N: And there we go, another chapter done. I can't wait for next Tuesday. Heheh.**_

 _ **Make sure to review! :D**_


	5. A Demon in His Mother's Home

He's here.

He's really here _._ He really showed up!

Adam tried to keep the forlorn expression on his face as Sam and Dean walked over to him, but with every step they took he could feel his heartbeat quicken.

But now that they were here…

"Um, Andy Taylor?" Sam inquired.

Adam closed his eyes, calming himself before standing up and answering, "Yeah… that's me."

"We just have a few questions for you, if you don't mind." Sam said, opening a notepad.

He looked kind of different. Longer hair, stronger… how many years had it actually been?

Adam nodded, "Yeah, go ahead. But I've already told the cops everything."

Dean interjected, "Well, we'd like to hear some things again if you don't mind. What did you find when you went to your mother's place?"

"Well… the door was open. It smelled nice in there, like… like…" Adam willed himself to tear up, "Like her chocolate cookies. I walked over to the kitchen and… I found her lying there on the floor. My mom. Someone freaking… someone freaking killed…" He drifted off, hoping he'd been convincing.

Sam smiled at him sympathetically, "Why did you go to your mom's place?"

"My girlfriend… I was going to ask her to marry me, and… it just… it didn't work out. I wanted to talk to my mom."

Dean inquired, "What was your girlfriend's name?"

"Lindsey." Adam looked at his brothers in confusion when their eyes widened, "What? What is it?"

"Um…" Sam cleared his throat, "Was her last name O'Donnell by any chance?"

Adam tried to remember. He'd seen her on the contact list in Andy's phone. He was pretty sure that that was the last name he'd read, so he nodded.

"Yeah, that's it. Why? Is she in trouble or something?"

Sam's face paled, "No! No, of course not. So did you notice anything else when you found your mom? Any… cold spots, weird smells, flickering lights… that sort of thing?"

Adam almost smiled, but managed to keep his expression downcast, "No… why would you ask that?"

"We're just covering all the bases. So nothing at all?"

"Just talk to someone else. I don't know what really happened. Hell, talk to the coroner, they'll probably be able to tell you more about what happened to my mom than I can…" Adam's voice drifted off.

 _Lucifer was picking out his hairs strand by strand. He grabbed a fistful and yanked it, causing Adam to flinch as it was ripped from his skull._

"Andy…?" Sam said worriedly, "Um, are you alright?"

Adam blinked quickly trying to keep himself rooted to this world, "No. My mom just died. Why do you think I'd be alright!?"

"I didn't mean—"

"My mom's gone, my girlfriend's gone, and I'm all on my own! I'm _alone_. I don't have anyone to lean on! God, did I want someone to lean on, someone to help me up when I fell but…" Adam noticed he was getting off track, "Just conduct your damn investigation and get out of my face."

Dean looked at him in surprise, but then nudged Sam slightly, saying under his breath, "Huh. It's almost as if he knows he's talking to the guy that stole his girlfriend."

"I didn't know, okay?!" Sam snapped back, but his face flushed, and the two of them entered the house.

Adam grinned. Well, phase one of the plan was complete. He just hoped they did as he expected them to, and everything would go perfectly.

He discreetly followed them to the kitchen, standing outside the doorway as his half-brothers examined the scene.

He heard Sam's voice emanate from the room, "Wait… do you smell that, Dean?"

"Yeah… sulphur."

Sulphur? Shit. He didn't account for that.

Sam spoke, and Adam could hear a hint of relief in his voice, "It's a demon. We're dealing with a demon."

"Well, they obviously know you. Meg?"

"Yeah, pretty sure Meg wouldn't go to these lengths."

"…Ruby?"

Ruby? Who…? Adam listened intently as they kept talking.

"Don't even joke, Dean. She's not coming back." Sam's voice was wary, somewhat scared. Whoever that Ruby chick was, obviously she'd been pretty important.

"Well, it's a demon who knows _you_ personally, Sammy. Kind of narrows down the options."

"But… why kill Ms. Taylor? She doesn't have anything to do with demons."

"Could be just to get our attention, Sammy."

Sam's voice faltered, "I… I suppose so. This case is getting weirder and weirder."

Oh, just you wait until you find out it's actually your half-brother that did this. And it's all your fault.

 _Adam laughed softly._

Shit.

 _Lucifer let the skin he'd been holding fall to the ground. Adam stiffened. Go back. Let your mind go blank again._

 _"_ _Adam? Did you just…"_

 _No. He didn't. Shit. Go back. Go back to the real world. Get out of here, come ON. LEAVE, YOU IDIOT! YOU CAN'T LET HIM FIND OUT! GO! JUST—_

"—GO!"

Sam and Dean's voices silenced and they walked out of the door, to face Adam. Sam looked at him oddly.

"What was that?"

Adam blinked. He really had got to get better at these random outbursts, whatever reality he's in.

"This… is my mother's home. She… she was murdered, and you're, well you're talking about…. About…. About god damn demons! Are- are you making some kind of sick joke? The hell are you trying to say!?" Adam shouted, praying (still not sure to who) that they'd buy into what he was saying.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, and then Sam moved forward towards Adam, "Listen, we didn't mean anything by it."

"No! Get out of this house right now! Go!" Adam yelled.

"Andy, calm down—"

"I will not calm down! You guys are lunatics. Lunatics! How the hell are you even federal agents!? I won't tolerate this." Adam crossed his arms, practically giddy from seeing the expressions on his brothers' faces.

"Andy. Listen to me," Dean said, "Your mother's death… might not have been a murder in the traditional sense."

"What?"

"We think… that maybe a demon had killed her." He saw Sam stare at Dean, eyes practically screaming, ' _Way to sugarcoat it.'_

"Okay, you guys are crazy."

"Hear us out, Andy," Sam said calmly, breaking his glare at Dean to look at him, "We've dealt with these kinds of things before, alright? Just let us do our jobs."

"My statement stands. Crazy." Adam shook his head at them, "You're making a mockery of a good woman's death."

Dean sighed, exasperated, "Andy, just let us handle this okay? Go find yourself a new girlfriend. One that won't get distracted by meese. Mooses? What's the plural for moose?"

Sam stared at Dean wide-eyed, and then jabbed him in the ribs.

"We're very sorry, Andy. We'll be going now. Here's our numbers if you remember anything else about the murder." Sam handed Andy a paper with both of their phone numbers, and then ushered Dean out the door, leaving Adam on his own. What did Dean mean by that? Distracted by moose… those two were just inexplicable.

 _Lucifer was scratching off the rest of Adam's skin, agonizingly slowly._

 _"_ _Adam… I know you can hear me…"_

He took a few quick breaths and wondered if his plan would work… it seemed dubious.

But, he'd been winning so far, so what was one little challenge? He just prayed Dean and Sam would do what he wanted them to… he was so close…

 _ **A/N: And there we are! Chapter five done. See y'all next week!**_

 _ **Oh btw, not that you may be interested, but ON SUNDAY I WENT TO TORCON! I MET MISHA COLLINS AND IT WAS AMAZING!**_

 _ **-that is all.**_


	6. What Colour is the Sky Again?

"Well, that Andy guy's quite the character." Dean chortled as they got back into the car.

Sam scoffed, "Yeah. You know Dean; I can't believe you kept talking about his girlfriend like that."

"Ex-girlfriend. And apparently, your… what is it now, six-night stand?"

"I didn't know she was dating anyone!"

"You ruined a poor guy's life, Sammy-boy. Don't worry. It happens to the best of us." Dean said with a grin as he closed the car door.

"I seriously didn't know, Dean."

Dean shook his head, still grinning, "My brother. The heart-breaker."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam sighed, "Look. Moving on… There's just something about this case. I feel like we're missing something."

"Well, yeah, we don't know who the killer is."

"No, more than that. Why target me specifically? What's their goal? If they wanted us here, well they've got us here, so what's going to happen now, Dean?"

Dean began driving down the road, in search of a motel to stay at for the next couple of days, "I don't know. Guess we'll just have to wait and see." He spotted one and began to pull into the lot.

"We should probably visit the coroner's office. See the body, find if there's any clues left behind on her."

Dean sighed, glancing at the motel, and then turned the car and reversed his direction.

Sam's phone buzzed and he glanced at the text he'd just received.

"Who's texting you Sammy?"

Sam just sighed, and put his phone back down, "Um… it's Lindsey."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "You still with her?"

"She cheated on Andy… with me. Yeah, pretty sure that's not grounds for a healthy relationship."

"But is she hot?"

"Dean!"

"…Okay sorry, you don't have to answer that; I saw her profile pic. She's hot, Sammy. Who cares if she was with that other guy? You can still hang with her a couple nights."

Sam just ran a hand through his hair, "What if she's tied to the murder? I don't think it's any coincidence that Lindsey knows Ms. Taylor."

"Well, guess we'll find out. Maybe you should meet with her again," Dean winked, and then seeing Sam's expression he corrected himself, "I mean to see if she's tied to the murder."

Sam sighed, "Yeah… maybe."

"Don't sound so down! She's hot!"

Sam quieted at that, and Dean grinned. Well, he wasn't wrong. Sam recalled the times he spent with Lindsey. Well, she was a bit odd, but he hadn't thought her to be the type to cheat.

They sat in silence until Dean pulled up at the coroner's office. They climbed up the steps and entered through the doorway, flashing their badges.

"We'd like to see the body of Ms. Taylor?" Sam asked.

A woman by the name of Carla nodded, "Right this way. Still, there's not much to see." As she pulled the woman's body out of the rack, Dean spotted a flowery tattoo on Carla's collarbone. He grinned, wondering what else she was hiding. Gorgeous blue-green eyes, dark hair... he definitely wouldn't mind finding out. His grin faded as the body of Ms. Taylor came into view.

Her head was entirely bashed in, skull dented, and her expression, beaten into her face, was one of pure shock and despair. However, the rest of her body seemed intact. In fact, he'd go so far as to say she wasn't harmed in any other way- not a single blemish on her. It had been a quick death, then.

Why would the demon just kill this woman? She wasn't significant at all to the two of them, especially not to Sam. What was the point?

Carla sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "We couldn't even find the murderer's fingerprints on the rolling pin.

Sam crossed his arms, "So… there weren't any fingerprints at all?"

"Now I didn't say that now did I? Don't you listen there agent?"

Dean laughed, "Yeah, he's new. Sorry."

Carla rolled her eyes, "Ms. Taylor's fingerprints were on it, and so were Andy's, her son's."

"…Andy's fingerprints were on it?" Sam blinked.

"God, is he deaf?"

Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah, again- new. Why were Andy's prints on the pin?"

"Well, he told us he found her, and lifted up the pin out of shock."

"Why isn't he a suspect?" Dean asked.

"His story checked out apparently. I didn't actually hear it, but the investigative officers just told me he wasn't a suspect. No clue why. If you ask me, they should be investigating him, but eh, guess I'm kind of cold hearted to think a son would murder his own mother right?"

"No, that um, doesn't make you cold-hearted." Sam assured.

"Sorry, did you say something newbie?" She jeered, and turned to face Dean, "Well anyway, if you can, I say talk to him a bit more. He's damn suspicious. Wish I had more influence, but I just take care of them dead 'uns. Ain't that right Ms. Taylor?" She chuckled and rolled the dead woman's body back into the rack.

Carla put her hands together and looked at Dean, "Anything else you need?"

"No, that's good. Thanks." Sam answered for his brother.

Carla glanced at him once, and then just shook her head lightly. She reached into her pocket, "Fine then. Well, if you need anything, gimme' a call." She handed Dean a business card she'd pulled out of her pocket, making sure she let her hand touch his. She smiled, and traced her fingers down his hand before finally drawing back.

"Awesome. Will do." He grinned and Sam just looked at his brother incredulously. Was he being serious right now?! They were in the middle of a dire investigation and here he was, flirting.

Sam sighed, "Thank you for your time, Carla." She looked as though she had something else to say, but Sam nudged Dean slightly, and they left her office.

The brothers stepped out onto the road, and Sam glanced at the setting sun.

Dean looked at his younger brother, recognizing the expression on his face, "What's up?"

"I think we should pay Andy a visit."

 _Is that fire?_

 _Adam's mind vaguely registered the red hot metal knife as Lucifer brought it closer. After skinning him earlier and eliciting such a strong reaction, he'd decided to do it once more._

 _"_ _You've been acting a bit strange lately, Adam." He began tugging on Adam's hair lightly, pulling it up, and cutting it. The heat emanated from the knife above him, the top of his scalp prickling._

 _Michael poked at the fire Lucifer had heated the knife on, "Why are you bothering with this?"_

 _"_ _Well, I'm bored. And well, you don't care about this guy anyways, so why does it matter to you?" Lucifer scoffed, "At least_ _I cared for my vessel."_

 _Michael stood up indignantly, "You broke his soul!"_

 _"_ _He wasn't exactly my vessel down_ here _now was he?"_

 _"_ _I will never understand your logic, brother."_

 _"_ _Yeah. Ditto." He let the blade of the knife dip into Adam's head, enticing a very light flinch from Adam._

 _Lucifer began to cut off the skin on Adam's head, all the while searing the wounds closed with the knife, only to open them up again._

 _What colour was the sky again?_

Adam took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. His scalp tingled, and he absent-mindedly ran his fingers through his hair.

He looked across the street at the sunset, finally leaving Ms. Taylor's house. The setting sun was beautiful. He couldn't look away from the dazzling colours bouncing through the air. They shone through the buildings in front of him, glimmering off their windows, making the world look as though it was on fire.

He really hoped it wasn't.

Clouds began to get darker, colouring to a delicate pigment of purple, enticing him to look away from the sunset for a moment and behind him. The sky had begun to grow dark, opposite the sunset. The gradient across the sky was the most beautiful thing he had set his eyes on in what felt like centuries.

A delicate wind rustled his hair and he smiled, not even daring to close his eyes. To think even for a second that this might be a dream. He was free.

 _Lucifer spat on his burning scalp, and it began to sting even more so than before._

Adam shook his head, finally looking away from the sunset, and back at the ground. Now that he'd gotten the Winchesters to show up…

Well, he knew what he was going to do to Sam, after all… he'd seen the worst of it down in Hell. Found what really… _really_ grinded him. Broke him.

There was a particular moment when Sam's soul completely _snapped!_ He'd decided to recreate it, and well, his plan was already in action.

It would be simple, really, and he knew exactly what to do with Dean as well.

He knew what he wanted to do to the Winchesters, and with any luck everything was going exactly according to his plan. His eyes widened. There was someone he hadn't planned a punishment for. Damn it! How could he forget the person who took Sam and left him behind in hell!? How could he forget about Castiel?

Maybe… maybe Lucifer or Michael knew what he should do about Castiel.

No. That was stupid. More stupid than anything. Asking those two for anything, well, it might reveal what was really happening to him. Who knew what they'd try then?! His mind drifted back to Cas.

That feathered freak. Adam didn't know enough about him to think of a good enough punishment. What would that bastard hate? What would kill him, not just physically… but emotionally as well. He needed him to hurt. He needed him to scream out in pain as his entire world burned around him. As if fell piece by piece by bloody piece to the ground. Burning…. Ashes would fill his throat as he choked on it, gasping for breath- He had to die! HE HAD TO DIE!

Adam's eyes turned black.

He was going to kill them. Kill them all.

 _"_ _A-dam," Lucifer sang, "Won't you speak?"_

Their blood would drip down his hands.

 _Lucifer sighed, sounding somewhat bored._

He'd kill them all, and no one was going to stop him!

 _"_ _Honestly, just say_ _ **something,**_ _we never talk anymore."_

Actually, why should he even let _this_ stop him? He could get his perfect revenge…

 _"_ _Just tell me kiddo, what's on your mind? Well, other than twelve layers of burnt skin."_

He could ask them.

 _Lucifer scraped his nails across Adam's skull, which was showing through the wounds._

They could help him.

 _Michael scoffed, "Maybe if you leave him be a moment, he'll talk."_

What did he have to lose?

 _Lucifer snapped his fingers, and repaired the damaged skin on Adam's head, "There. Happy?"_

He could lose everything he'd obtained. He could lose this freedom.

 _"_ _You gonna talk now Adam?"_

Oh, fuck it.

 _Adam lifted his head, and his eyes darted between the two brothers, disregarding their shocked expressions._

 _"_ _Yeah. Yeah, I am."_

 _ **A/N:WOO! Well, that was a fun chapter. By the way, I have quite a few more chapters done and written, but i'm still going to only be updating once a week. I like having the time to edit things.**_

 _ **But with me having so much done, i'll always be on time with updates! I think once a week is pretty darn good for a fanfic, right guys?**_

 _ **What do y'all think is going to happen next? I'm definitely curious as to your ideas! :D**_


	7. Hill's Brewery

"I think we should pay Andy a visit." Sam said, looking thoughtful.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Dean nodded as they entered the car, "Andy's definitely suspicious. But let's check it out tomorrow, alright? If he's not the killer, then his mom was just murdered. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

Sam blinked, "Um, yeah. I guess."

"Also… this gives you time to meet up with Lindsey."

"DEAN!"

Dean began to drive to the motel they'd seen earlier that day, a smirk evident on his features.

"Look, all I'm saying is, she obviously likes you. Well, more than she liked Andy, anyways. Just talk to her, alright? Maybe she knows something."

Dean knew his younger brother wouldn't do anything that would jeopardize their investigation, so he wasn't surprised when his brother grudgingly answered:

"Fine. Whatever."

Dean grinned and turned on the radio, unfortunately just as they found the motel. Aw, come on, this was one of his favourite songs! Why did it always have to come on just as they had to get out of the car?

Sam noticed his brother's expression and laughed, "You know, you can stay in the car if you want to."

"Shut up."

Dean parked the impala, and Sam got out of the car, "Come in when the song's done. I'll get us a room."

Dean grumbled his response, and his brother grinned, closing the door with a bang. He walked up to the front desk and handed the clerk his credit card, which was signed under 'Arthur Correlancer', in reference to a book series he enjoyed.

"Yeah, room for two."

"Okay! Now, will that be one or two beds?"

"Two. Two beds."

The clerk nodded and handed him his keys. Sam stepped back outside the motel, just as Dean's song finished. He was just getting out as Sam walked up to him.

"What's up?"

Sam handed him the keys to the motel room, and then leaned against the car.

"I'm taking the impala."

"What, why!?"

Sam exhaled, "It was your idea for me to meet with Lindsey in the first place. I need the car."

" _Right,_ " Dean beamed, "Just don't get any scratches on her alright? I swear to god if you bump her into anything… oh and take care of the impala too."

Sam glared at his brother and then stepped past him into the driver's seat, "I'll see you later, Dean."

"Yep. Have fun, Sammy."

He put the keys in the ignition and left Dean beaming in front of the motel. He just shook his head slightly and then began the drive to Lindsey's house.

He recalled when he had met her, the time being around two weeks prior. He'd met her at a bar, 'Hill's Brewery'. He didn't think much of the place. It was dingy and bland, and the people who drank there weren't all that different.

He sat at the bar, contemplating what he should order. There weren't many options, and the ones that were shown weren't too appealing. He sighed, deciding that he'd rather just have a beer from the fridge back at the motel; at least it would be a better atmosphere if anything.

He'd been just about to leave when he spotted her. God, she was gorgeous. She had flowing light brown hair, and these, god, these green eyes that made Sam feel like he was walking on air. He couldn't look away. You see, Sam felt he respected women, yet… he could just picture himself undressing her… he tried to clear his head and go talk to her.

He didn't get the chance to work up his courage, before she had strolled up to him, a sly smile on her lips.

"Hello," She breathed.

"H-hello."

"I'm Lindsey."

"Sam."

"Okay, so, Sam… I noticed you noticing me."

Sam cleared his throat, "Um, sorry."

"No! No, it's okay. You're new around here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's right."

The bartender glanced over at them, "You two need any drinks?"

"Yeah," Lindsey responded, sitting down beside Sam at the bar, "Two margaritas, please."

Sam blinked in surprise at that but then smiled, "I can pay for those if you like."

"Why?"

"Um—"

"They're both for me." Lindsey grinned, "You should've spoken to the bartender while he was still here if you wanted something. Sorry, bud."

The bartender had stepped away from them to make the drinks, and Sam gaped at the woman in shock. Okay, beautiful and snarky. What a combination.

"You- you are just something."

"Oh my. I've never been called something before! You're so sweet, Sam, I'll definitely sleep with you now!"

"I didn't-"

"No, but I know how guys think. I'm not stupid." The bartender put the two margaritas in front of her and she smiled, picking one up and sipping on it.

"Still, you're cute." She said easily, "Well, a bit tall for my taste, I mean I'd rather not have to crane my neck to look up at the guy pinning me against the wall and fucking me senseless."

"Uhh—"

"Yeah, don't talk. After I finish these margaritas, we're going back to my place." Lindsey noticed the look on his face, and demanded, "What, a girl can't ask for what she wants? Okay fine, here we go: Oh, no sir, I don't like sex! But if you really insist I guess I could try it for the first time… Be gentle okay?" She held up a hand to her mouth and then looked up at him with mock innocence.

Sam just stared at her, eyes wide. He was speechless. He couldn't find any words to describe her. Well, _forward_ was one of them. Still, it sounded like a good deal. Just a one-night thing.

She took a large swig of her margarita and stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Um, yeah. Sure. We can go back to your place then if- if you want." Sam smiled, and Lindsey slid over the second margarita.

"Okay, I lied, yeah this is for you. Still, wanted to be sure I wasn't just shooting in the dark. Well, now that we've established we're having sex later, let's talk."

Sam took the margarita and tasted it, "What about?"

"Hi, my name's Lindsey, I'm a law student, hm, what're you doing with your life, Mr. Sam?" She grinned.

"Oh! Right, I uh, well, I'm on a road trip. With- with my brother. So, you're a law student? I was actually pre-law."

"Nice," She finished off her margarita, "Why didn't you continue with it?"

Sam took a large gulp of his drink before answering. He wasn't too sure how he would respond, in all honesty.

"…Personal reasons."

"Okay. Got it. School's a touchy subject." Lindsey propped her elbow up on the counter and rested her head on it, "Now back to the subject of sex. You've been tested recently? I aint sleeping with ya' if you haven't been."

"I'm not carrying anything."

"Are you lying…?"

"I'd tell you if I was."

"Fine. But you're wearing a condom and pulling out as well." She stood up, and although Sam hadn't finished his margarita, she began to leave the bar.

She called behind her, "You coming?"

Sam stood up, and his chair made a grating sound. He left his drink and a wad of bills on the counter, bounding after her.

Needless to say, they had a good time after that.

Sam could hardly believe that she had actually been cheating on Andy with him. She never gave any indication that that was the case…

As he drove to her house, thoughts like that kept barraging on his mind, pounding at it. The car was silent, Sam having turned off the radio once he had begun driving, and he was entirely alone with his thoughts. But after a while, they began to drift away from Lindsey and back to the case.

Who was "back"?

Why did they kill Ms. Taylor?

And most importantly… what did it have to do with Sam?

 _ **A/N: What do you guys think of Lindsey? Anyway, see y'all next week!**_


	8. Lindsey

Sam ambled up the steps to Lindsey's house, and rapped his knuckles on the door. He took a step back and waited for her to answer.

After a moment she opened the door, wearing nothing but a towel. Her hair was sopping wet, and she brushed back a strand, smiling widely at Sam.

"Sam!" She gestured for him to enter, "What's up?"

Sam stepped inside trying to not look at Lindsey. He walked over to her living room and sat down on the couch without speaking.

"Give me a mo', I'll just grab a shirt- eh, you know what, you've seen me naked, so who cares?" She sat down across from him, barely holding the towel up.

Sam's eyes traced her living room, glancing at the trinkets on her mantelpiece, including an old model ship, and then finally down at Lindsey.

"I… want to talk."

"Ooh, that doesn't sound good. I do something wrong?" Lindsey asked.

"Yeah, I should say so. Does… does the name Andy ring a bell?"

Lindsey sat up, "Why?"

"You blew off his marriage proposal yesterday."

"I what?"

"Did I stutter?"

She blinked in surprise, "That- he never… what are you talking about?"

Sam regarded her oddly, "Didn't you see the news? His mother's been murdered. He'd gone to visit her after having his marriage proposal rejected. He said he asked _you._ "

"Andy never proposed to me. I didn't even see him yesterday. Haven't seen him all week actually," Lindsey said.

Sam fell silent for a moment, and then demanded, "Why did you cheat!?"

"Oh come on, we weren't that close. Just fuck-buddies, right?"

"No I meant on him!"

"Oh! Oh. Well, he's a bit of a scrub. Dim. I've been trying to break it off with him for months, but something just keeps stopping me. Want to come to bed?"

Sam pursed his eyebrows, "We're talking about your boyfriend, and you're asking me if I want to sleep with you."

"Mm, yeah. Well, I mean you're here, so why not?" She tugged slightly on her towel, eyeing Sam seductively.

Sam was having none of it, "Why the hell did he say you two broke up yesterday? That you blew his marriage proposal off?"

"I was at home watching Netflix all day. Can't've been me he proposed to then. You sure he's not delusional or something?"

"I wouldn't know; I'm not his girlfriend."

"That can be arranged…" Then seeing Sam's appalled expression she laughed, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Geez, lighten up, Sam."

She stood up, letting the towel fall off of her as she did so and walked over to the mantel. She picked up an anchor that had broken off the model ship and ran her thumb over it absentmindedly.

"You're always so serious." She said with a light smile.

"U-um, Lindsey?"

"Hm?"

"Er… your towel?"

"What about it?"

Sam just looked at his feet, determined not to let his desires get the better of him, "Nothing."

Lindsey just grinned, "Now that you think I'm taken, you don't want to be with me? Am I not pretty anymore?"

Sam still refused to look up. She put down the anchor on top of the model ship and walked over to him, bending down.

"Come on, we weren't that serious anyways, were we Sammy?"

"C-Can you not call me Sammy?"

"Why not?"

Sam finally looked up at her face, and responded, "Only my brother calls me Sammy and gets away with it."

"Oh then I've been a bad girl, haven't I? Maybe you should fix that…?" She put her hand on his leg, and then he stood up abruptly.

"Lindsey, I'm not doing this with you anymore! You lied to me, and to your boyfriend."

"Okay, first off I didn't lie to either of you. I just didn't tell you about the others."

" _Others?_ "

"What, you think you're the first guy I've slept with since being with Andy? Jesus Christ, Sam, get some perspective." She walked over to the other chair and pulled on her towel once more, "And here I thought you were a smart guy. Eh, well, kind of. Don't know you that well."

Sam stared at Lindsey incredulously, "Why? What's the point?"

"It's not like I'm in love with any of them. It's just sex- god what's your problem?" Sam noticed a very slight tremor in her voice as she spoke.

"I don't think that's the whole story."

"Ah, well, I don't even know your last name! How's that for the whole story? Who cares who the hell I am and who the hell you are? We had sex. The end. Speaking of… the offer's still on the table if you want to go upstairs…"

"Not happening," Sam said indignantly.

Lindsey rolled her eyes, "Fine then. Leave. No use in you being here."

She flicked her hand towards the front door, sitting down on her chair once more, and began wringing the water out of her hair.

"I still want to ask you some more things."

"Oh great! Lovely," She responded sarcastically, "I've got nothing else to say. You're just someone I had sex with! I don't have to explain myself to you—what are you doing?"

Sam had taken out his flask, and unscrewed the top. He took a drink from it and then held it out for her.

"Want some?"

After regarding him oddly, she took it from his hands hesitantly and took a long chug of it. She wiped her mouth off and handed it back to him. He took it back, looking at her with relief. So she wasn't the demon…

"Why was it so watered down?" She asked.

"No reason," He shook his head, aiming to change the subject, "Listen, Lindsey, about Andy… has he been… acting strange recently?"

Lindsey looked confused, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," Sam persisted.

"Well, he hadn't texted me at all in the past week, that was a little weird, but um… no, not really. He did send me this one kind of weird message yesterday though…"

"What did he say?"

She took a deep breath, and said cautiously, "… 'I love you Lindsey. This isn't your fault. I love you.'"

"He said that?"

Lindsey nodded, "I actually tried calling him, but he wouldn't pick up. Why? What do you think he meant?"

Sam leaned against the back of the chair. What _could_ Andy have meant? _This isn't your fault._ What could he be referring to? If he was talking about Ms. Taylor's death, then obviously it wasn't Lindsey's fault. Why would it be?

"I don't know," Sam answered truthfully, "I wish I did."

Lindsey glanced at her watch, "Listen Sam, it's getting late, so unless you want to come to bed..."

Sam thought for a moment, and then stood up from the couch.

 ** _A/N: Okay... um... look forward to the next chapter guys... eh heh. Next week is definitely going to be... interesting to say the least. It may be my fav chapter i've written so far. So... see you next week... :)_**


	9. Here of All Places

_A golden retriever was following him and Sam. Sam was laughing, and he pet the dog, smiling up at Dean._

 _The dog moved towards Dean. As it did so, its shape began to shift and change. Its fur turned to a dark black, and its eyes sank into its skull, turning a vivid red._

 _It looked as though the dog was a mist of black fangs and blood._

 _Dean began to run. It was in front of him, now even larger, looming above him. Frothy slobber dripped from its mouth._

 _Sam had disappeared._

 _The hellhound growled, and Dean clambered into the impala, putting his keys into the ignition, only to find his keys didn't fit._

 _His impala purred into a start as it and Dean began to run away from the dog, the impala's hooves clattering down on the pavement._

 _Dean reared his black horse, and it whinnied beneath him, screaming in pain when the dog grabbed its legs with its hand-like paws. Dean and the horse were pulled to the ground, blood everywhere. Dean hurriedly got up only to find he was alone._

 _So… so alone._

 _He couldn't see anything for miles._

 _Then he saw him: Sam, lying on the ground, burning._

 _Dean ran as fast as he could to him, through the fire and to his brother. He had to get to him. To protect him! That was his duty- his entire life. He couldn't let him die; he was all he had! Sammy! Sammy, please be alright!_

 _Sam's eyes opened, and he began to speak. But all Dean could hear was a ringing sound._

 _"_ _Rrring!"_

 _Dean looked around confused, and gradually…_ opened his eyes.

He was lying on the motel bed, his phone noisily chiming on the bedside table.

 _'_ _Rrring! Rrring! Rrring!'_

Dean took a breath, the dream already fading from his memory, and sat up. He grabbed his phone, and not recognizing the caller ID, answered it.

"Hello?"

 _"_ _Um… agent?"_ Came the muffled voice.

"Yeah, that's right. Agent Frehley. Who's this?"

"This is… it's Andy. Look, I've thought about what you and that other agent said. It… makes sense. I think I might be able to tell you some more about what happened that night. Something I couldn't tell the police. But- but if it's actually something that- that you could help with, then I'd really, I'd uh, really appreciate it if we could talk."

"What do you call what we're doing now?"

"I can't be sure this thing isn't bugged. You said… you said _demons_ killed my mom. How can I be sure of anything anymore!? Just- just come to the cemetery on the edge of town. We can talk without interruptions there."

"Wait, right now?"

"When else?!"

Dean rubbed his eye, "Fine, fine. I'll be there in ten minutes or so."

"Thank you, agent. This means a lot to me."

"Yeah, yeah no problem."

"See you soon…!"

Andy had hung up. Dean sighed, and looked at the time on his phone. It was just after eleven pm. He began to call out for his little brother to get up so they could get going, but then grinned when he realized his brother wasn't there.

Guess he got lucky with Lindsey again, huh? Still, Dean thought he had better tell Sam where he was going at the very least. Still holding his phone, he sent his little brother a message saying:

 _Went to the cemetery on the edge of town to talk to Andy. Don't wait up._

He stashed his phone in his pocket, not having changed out of his clothes before going to sleep and then got up and out of the motel.

With a start he realized Sam still had the impala. Dean groaned; of course Sam had it. That, and the majority of their weapons if something went awry. Once more, Dean pulled out his phone, and with a great amount of displeasure… ordered a cab.

"What you doing going to the cemetery this late at night?" The cabbie asked, curious.

Dean said nothing as he sat in the back of the cab in annoyance. Having to sit in a cab like this when he owned the greatest car on the planet…

Fortunately for Dean, the trip wasn't a long one. He stepped out of the cab, and paid his fare. He walked towards the graveyard, holding a flashlight in his hands. Dean sighed, and looked around the graveyard.

The kid had told him to meet in the cemetery. Great, that totally narrowed it down. This had to have been one of the largest cemeteries he'd seen.

But there was something about this place… he… he recognized it. His pulse quickened as the realization dawned on him. This was where Sam and Lucifer had fallen into the pit. He never thought he'd have to see this place again.

He forced himself to move forward, shining the flashlight around, calling out for Andy.

There was no answer but for the soft sound of wind.

Dean moved forward into the graveyard, and found himself gravitating towards the spot where Sam had fallen. He wasn't sure the exact reason as to why he was doing so… but as he stood on top of the grass where the pit had opened, shivers ran up and down his spine.

His brother had died here.

His vision blurred for a moment, and the world seemed darker for just a split second. It didn't seem real.

"Dean?"

He froze, turning around to face the owner of the voice, his vision once more restored to normalcy.

"Sam? What- what are you doing here?"

His younger brother stood before him, holding a knife and a flashlight. Dean eyed at him oddly, and Sam glanced around before facing his brother.

"Andy called me, said he had some information."

"Yeah… same here. You didn't happen to see him, did you?" Dean inquired.

Sam shook his head and then leaned against one of the graves, "Why out here, though? What's the point of meeting in a graveyard? In… _this_ graveyard."

Dean knew exactly what Sam meant. What was Andy thinking- that is… if it _was_ Andy. He then sat down across from his brother on one of the headstones.

"It doesn't make any sense," Dean agreed, "What do you think he has to tell us?"

"No idea."

They waited for about ten minutes in silence, before Dean glanced up at the night sky, "Do you think we should just get going then? Doesn't look like Andy's gonna' show."

"Let's wait a bit longer. It's not like we have anywhere important to be."

Dean sighed, and returned his gaze to the sky. It had been a while actually since the two of them had been able to sit together quietly, just… watching the stars. They used to do this so much more often before. All the time, they'd drive out to a big open field and just… watch as the world turned, reflecting in what they could see in the sky.

Dean watched a cloud pass over the moon, and the graveyard grew even dimmer. His eyes traced the sky away from the moon and he stared at his favourite constellations. A gentle smile appeared on his face as he gazed at them.

There was Orion's belt… the big dipper, the littler dipper- that one had been a favourite of Sam's when he was younger. They used to make jokes that Dean was the big dipper and Sam was the little one. Dean grinned to himself as he realized, Sam now being of moose-like proportions, he'd probably be the big dipper rather than Dean.

Not that he'd ever admit that to his little Sammy.

They waited for a few more minutes before Dean stood up, "Come on. Let's go, Sam."

He saw Sam hadn't budged and he looked at him oddly, "Sammy?"

His brother shook his head and stood up off the grave, "Yeah. Yeah I'm coming." He looked around anxiously.

"What's up, Sam?"

"Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Sam just shook his head again, "Nothing. I must be imagining things."

An awkward silence fell upon them. They walked forwards through the long, empty graveyard, shining flashlights along the ground so they wouldn't trip over a headstone.

As the light flickered across the ground, worms slithered deeper into the soil, recoiling away from the light. There were always an absurd amount of worms in graveyards. Dean smirked to himself as he made the worms move around, scaring them with the light.

He then glanced up at his brother, and broke the silence, "So, what happened with you and Lindsey? You find out anything worthwhile, or did you just… you know." Dean smirked.

In the dark, Dean couldn't tell what his brother's expression was as he answered, "It's not important."

"What, you guys have a falling out?"

"It's really not important, Dean," His brother insisted, "I didn't find out anything, and nothing happened."

They walked along once more in silence, before Sam froze.

Dean moved his flashlight away from the ground and up to Sam's face, "What is it Sammy?"

"Y-you don't hear it?" Sam said, looking terribly alert. His eyes were wide, and he was looking around the graveyard frantically, as if searching for the owner of the sound.

Dean began to respond, that no, he didn't hear whatever it was—

It felt as though the ground had disappeared from beneath his feet. Like he was suspended in mid-air, not falling, only hanging. For an instant, he forgot who he was. The sound had struck him, and after a moment of disbelief, it grew louder, forcing him back to reality.

It was the growl of a hellhound.

He leapt forward, beginning to run. His brother ran after him, both of them trying to reach the edge of the graveyard. Dean could hear the hellhound bounding after them, the growls growing louder and louder and LOUDER AND LOUDER—

It filled his head until it was all Dean could hear.

The memories of his dream suddenly returned to him. This couldn't be real… and yet he could hear them so clearly- the roar of the hellhounds.

They were all around him. So many of them- everywhere! He had to get away. He had to get away! He didn't want to go back to hell again. He found himself unable to think rationally. He was going to hell. He'd be tortured again. No, he wouldn't let that happen!

They ran towards the entrance to the cemetery, and suddenly a hellhound clawed at Sam's leg.

He yelled in pain as it dragged him down to the ground.

"SAM!" Dean yelled, taking out his gun. He shot randomly into the air around his little brother, praying with all his might that the bullets would hit the hellhounds.

Sam wasn't able to reply. For a moment, time seemed to slow. His brother was dying and there was nothing he could do… he couldn't help him. He can't help him! Sam!

He didn't know what to do. _He_ _didn't know what to do!_

 _Please…_ He found himself pleading with a God he was almost sure didn't care for some sort of miracle.

He lunged forward, no longer even caring what would happen to him, he had to protect his baby brother. Sammy… please, Sammy, please be okay-

He was still shooting randomly, even as he moved towards his brother; every now and then he'd hear a yelp of pain coming from the hellhounds.

All around him were large masses of the hounds, and with a start it dawned of them none of them were attacking him. All of their focus was on Sam. Just as he thought this, Dean was then pushed to the ground by one of the hellhounds, contradicting his theory. He could smell its hot breath on his face- a vulgar combination of ash and rotting flesh.

…Why wasn't it attacking him?

It had him pinned down. He was unable to make any move against it or any of the other hellhounds… and they weren't hurting him.

"SAM!" Dean called out again helplessly, hoping against hope his brother was in a similar situation—that the hellhounds weren't hurting him either.

Nothing could've prepared him for what he heard in reply.

Sam was laughing.

 _ **A/N: I loved writing this chapter. Keh heh. What do y'all think is happening!? I'm eager to hear your reviews!**_

 _ **However, I want ya'll to know, I'm doing nanowrimo, so i'm super busy this month.**_

 _ **I have the next few chapters written, but after november, i'm going to take a break from writing. So, expect about... four more chapters before i take, say, a month's break. Sound good?Either way, that's what I'm doing.**_

 _ **Anyway, please review! :D**_


	10. Another Scar Among Many

It started out soft. Just a light chuckle… but Sam began to laugh more and more, and the growling of the hellhounds began to stop, even the sound of their footsteps dissipated. For the longest moment, Dean was left hearing only his brother's jeering laugh. It didn't sound like Sam. Rather, it sounded maniacal. Evil.

Still pinned down by the hellhound, Dean could only watch as Sam pulled himself to his feet, and sauntered over to him. He ran his hands through his hair, grinning. He took the knife off his belt and spun it around in his fingers. The wound on his leg began to close up, leaving only a blood stained patch on his torn jeans.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam laughed again and gazed down with cold eyes at his brother, "How was my acting? I think I played a good Sam, what do you think?"

Dean clenched his fists, pulling against the hellhounds hold which elicited a growl from above him.

He glared at what looked like his brother, "What did you do with him? Who are you!?"

"Oh haven't you figured that out yet Dean? Haven't you realized just _what this cemetery is_?" The grin on Sam's face widened until he was practically beaming, "I'm ba-ack!"

The blood drained from Dean's face. It couldn't be. This was all a nightmare.

It couldn't be Lucifer.

Dean hoping against hope that it wasn't true, said, "Lucifer…?"

"DING DING DING! That's right! I'm back, Dean, and better than ever!"

"S-Sam wouldn't have let you back into his body."

"Let's just say I was persuasive." He knelt down beside Dean, smiling, "Now, Dean, I've finally gotten to the two people I hate more than anything. You," Still holding the knife he let it light touch Dean's forehead, "And Sam."

The hellhound holding Dean whined, and Lucifer pat its head, "No, you're not killing him. Yet. I'm going to have a bit of fun first." Dean heard another hellhound moving behind him, its footsteps right by his ear.

Lucifer lifted his knife, and then touched his fingers to Dean's temple.

The moment he did, Dean felt something brush against the top of his head. His last coherent thought before he blacked out was that a hellhound was going to claw out his skull.

The feeling of something cold on his wrists woke him. At first a slight smile appeared on his face, but then as he tugged his hands downward, he opened his eyes, the smile immediately fading. He recalled Lucifer and the hellhounds, and realized none of it was a dream.

Wherever he was, it was dark. He heard the clanking of chains when he tried to move his hands or feet. There was no light, save for a tiny window to his left. The smallest amount of daylight poured into the room, illuminating his brother, sitting across from him, sharpening his knife.

Dean blinked, staring at him, about to ask what was going on—

"Lucifer," He growled.

"Dean! Glad you're awake, you were about to miss the big show!" Lucifer jumped to his feet, "God, it's been way too long since I've been able to talk to you like this, Dean. When was the last time…? Oh right. When you _threw me into hell._ "

"Let my brother go, Lucifer."

"OH! How very blunt of you. Hmm let me think… how about… no?" Lucifer laughed and ran his fingers through his long hair, "I've missed this body. It's even better than I remembered in fact. Has Sam been working out?"

Dean took a shaky breath, trying to not let any of his words get to him.

"Well, you see Dean, moving right along… I have a very particular punishment for you." Lucifer moved closer, and he gripped the blade of his knife between two fingers, "You think you can withstand anything, I'll bet..."

Dean scowled at him, "That's right."

Lucifer grinned, "But do you think little Sammy can?"

"What… what are you talking about?" Dean's heartbeat immediately quickened. What more could the angel in front of him do- he'd already taken Sam's body.

It fully dawned on him at that moment. Lucifer was in Sam's body again. He couldn't protect his little brother. He couldn't save him. And now, Satan stood before him, his brother buried, lost, and he couldn't even do anything about it. Lucifer was going to kill him and there _wasn't anything he could do._ He was going to die here.

"Oh, come on Dean-o! He's still ticking away inside here. He can see you, you know… trapped like a rodent, ready to be killed. Oh if you could just hear him!" Lucifer beamed, "Oh wait."

He snapped his fingers, and the sound echoed through the room. Lucifer blinked, looking at Dean, anxiously.

"Dean! Dean, please, listen," Came his brother's voice, "I'll take over like last time, okay!? I'll save us, I'll—"

Lucifer cleared his throat.

"Hm, enough of that for now… But let's just say, Sam has a front-row seat and I fully intend to make the most of that fact." He repositioned the blade in his hands and moved closer to Dean, putting it up to his throat.

"You'd make a pretty corpse." Lucifer cut lightly just below Dean's jawline, drawing a little smiley face. Blood dripped down his neck, staining his shirt collar.

Dean gathered up what saliva he could and then spat in Lucifer's face, "Fuck off."

Lucifer wiped the spit off his cheek and sneered, "Is that what you'd really want? Me, leave. Me in Sammy's precious little body, leave. I wouldn't come back, you know. You'd never find me or Sam again." He smirked.

Dean stared at him, but then found he couldn't look at him anymore. At his brother's face. Lucifer chortled when he saw that.

"What, can't look at little Sammy? How sad. That hurt him, you know. Hurt him right here," Lucifer put his hand to his heart with a pout, "But you know what'll hurt more…? Having him cut slowly into you… carving out his brother's life."

Lucifer smiled, and then slashed across Dean's chest. Dean tried not to yell out in pain as the blade cut into him. Lucifer watched his expression closely, and then took out a lighter from Sam's pocket.

"You see Dean, this is going to take a while, so I can't have you too hurt…" He glanced at the blood now seeping through his shirt, and lit the lighter beneath his blade, "So here's a favour- I'll cauterize the wound."

Dean instead of looking at Lucifer, looked around the room. He still could hardly see anything, but he managed to spot a staircase on the far side. If- if he somehow managed to escape, he could use those stairs, and get to freedom—

This time Dean did scream. The red hot blade seared his wounds closed, burning his chest in the process.

Just from the pain, Dean could tell this would scar.

 ** _A/N Sorry not sorry. Make sure to leave a review. :P_**


	11. His Heart

"Oh De-ean," Lucifer sang, walking down the staircase, "You have a nice sleep?"

A full day had passed, and just as night began to fall, Lucifer had returned.

The thing in his brother's body smiled, "It's great to see you again Dean. You look well." Dean didn't even raise his head. His chest was still burning, the pain practically unbearable. But… he'd get through this. He would find a way to free his brother.

After all, they'd been through worse, right?

Lucifer grinned, "It's gonna be a good day, Dean. I've got a great feeling." He pulled on a pair of gloves, and caught Dean looking at him.

"You curious about what I'm going to do? Oh don't worry, Sam is too. Oh, I've got the best idea…" His eyes sparkled and Dean felt a dash of fear. He didn't even want to imagine what Lucifer was planning.

He felt Lucifer's cold, gloved hand touch his chest, and he felt a sudden relief. The cold felt so good on his burned skin that he was able to breathe for a moment… up until the point when Lucifer took out the same knife he had used the day before, and cut a line on his chest once more.

Dean gasped at the sting of the knife. What- what was he… He winced in pain as Lucifer began to reach his gloved hand into Dean's chest cavity. Trying not to scream, he scrunched his eyes shut and when he opened them…

…Lucifer held Dean's heart in his hand.

He stared at it in awe. That was his heart. Beating… Beating... Beating… in Lucifer's hand. Lucifer smiled and gave it a light squeeze.

Immediately Dean felt his entire body tense up. Pain pulsated through every vein in his body.

"You know, you can do so much with a heart. You're lucky I'm an angel or you would've just died. Or maybe you're unlucky?" Lucifer chuckled, and squeezed the heart in his hand again, "I could kill you so easily… Dean, you're at my mercy! And according to you humans, well, Satan isn't exactly merciful."

Lucifer pocketed Dean's heart, and immediately Dean felt the pain grow even stronger. Every fibre of his being was crying out.

"Well, see you later Dean," Lucifer stated with a yawn, "Hope you don't mind not having a heart for a while, I've got some business to take care of."

He whistled, tapping the heart in his pocket as he climbed the stairs. And with each tap, a sharp jolt of pain shot through Dean's already damaged body.

It continued like this for a week. Dean had grown used to the constant pressure on him, the constant pain… sometimes worse than others. It would pound against him, filling him with the sensation of dying, and yet, he was still there, still alive.

He hadn't had anything to eat or drink, and his hunger was almost as unbearable as the relentless pain. He supposed the reason he wasn't dead yet was because Lucifer was keeping him alive- in fact, after a while, Dean began to wish he _was_ dead.

It was another week before Lucifer showed up again.

The creaking of the staircase alerted Dean to someone's presence, and he looked up weakly but hopefully, that it was someone who could- who could help him… and when he saw who it was, his expression fell, and he lowered his head.

"Aw come on, didn't ya' miss me at all, Dean?" Came his brother's voice.

He did miss his brother; that was true. But that wasn't his brother anymore. It was the devil.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Lucifer commented while munching on a slice of bread, "You know, I'd share but there really isn't much, so…" Lucifer took the last bite, "Sorry, Dean."

Dean didn't even bother responding.

"Aw, what, I leave for two weeks and now you won't talk to me?" Lucifer pouted, "And I had all these great plans for today! You know what? I'm gonna go. Unless you talk then I'm not even going to bother being here." He turned to leave, and Dean's eyes widened.

The devil walked up the staircase… and disappeared once more. The pain from his heart began to swell once more.

He was alone. So terribly alone. He shuddered as he realized that he'd rather be with Lucifer than be on his own.

Despite his mind telling him not to, he weakly called out to Lucifer.

A moment later, Lucifer descended down the staircase, holding a knife. Dean eyed him, looking nervous, but still too weak to do much else. Lucifer smiled and waved at the starving man, and then sat down across from him on a chair.

"Dean, I've got a treat for you today. Let's see if you comply." Lucifer leaned back in the chair, and then held up the knife, "You see this?"

He didn't wait for a reply before continuing, "If you listen to me, I'll get you some food, alright?"

Dean stared at him, anxious but hopeful. He wouldn't have that awful emptiness in his stomach anymore… finally…

Lucifer moved towards Dean, and then twisted something on the chains that were holding Dean to the wall, and they broke. He fell to his knees, eyes wide. Although he was freed from the chains he'd been trapped in for so long, he wasn't even strong enough to run.

"Get up," Lucifer commanded.

When Dean did nothing, he grabbed his shoulders and pulled him upwards, so that he was standing on his feet. He tried to glare at Lucifer, but found he couldn't even maintain eye contact. Lucifer snapped his fingers.

Immediately, Dean felt more energetic, and he straightened up. Although he still felt the pain pulsating through his veins, maybe he could try to escape…

"That's not going to happen, Dean," Lucifer said, as if reading his mind, "The door upstairs is locked. But I _will_ open it if you do something for me."

"…What?" Dean asked with a raspy voice.

"Kill me." Lucifer put the knife in Dean's hand, making sure he was holding it before moving his hands back.

Dean stared at him, confused.

"Kill me!" Lucifer laughed, holding out his arms.

It was a normal knife—was this supposed to be some sort of humiliation tactic? Still, Dean wanted to. He wanted to kill Lucifer, send him back to the pit where he belonged… Dean lifted the knife up slightly, weighing it in his hand.

"What are you waiting for? Kill me, Dean! Kill your brother."


	12. The Knife Was Right There

Dean nearly let the knife drop from his hands. How could he have forgotten what would happen if he tried to kill Lucifer…? He'd be killing his own brother… if his brother was even in there anymore.

Lucifer had probably already done something that had gotten Sam killed. Sam would be in heaven, wouldn't he?

Lucifer smiled.

Dean gripped the knife, and his stomach rumbled. He was so hungry… and still, he felt that constant pressure on his heart… but as he grew more anxious, his heart beat faster, and the pain just got worse, making him want to scream.

"What are you waiting for? Oh, oh you probably want to say goodbye to Sammy, right? Here, how about I let him talk while you kill him, sound fun?" Lucifer closed his eyes, and when he opened them, his expression changed.

"D-Dean?"

His brother was in front of him. It wasn't Lucifer anymore. Dean refused to get his hopes up, but still, he asked, "Can you move?"

Sam replied, "No. He's controlling my body. Listen Dean, just- just kill me. I don't care. Please, it's the only way out of this, I don't want to be here anymore. Lucifer he's… you've got to stop him! Whatever it takes."

"I'm not killing you, Sammy!"

"Do it! Please," Sam said desperately.

Dean began to walk past Sam, in hopes of maybe finding an exit- but Lucifer grabbed his arm.

"I- I'm sorry Dean, I can't control my body. Please, just kill me.'

Dean shook his head, pulling his arm away, "How many times have we been over this? I'm not going to kill you!"

"Dean, who knows what he's doing? I'd rather be dead than have to be _this_ anymore."

"It's not happening!"

Lucifer's voice then came out of his mouth, "But what if you don't have a choice, Dean? Ha, what if I make a demon possess you?"

"That's impossible."

"Why, because of your anti-possession tattoo? I burned that off ages ago."

Dean's face paled. Had… had he really…

"And how suiting it would be, to have your half-brother be the demon who possesses you?"

At that, he was confused, "Who are you talking about?"

"Did you really forget that easily? Wow. Poor kid, no wonder he wants revenge." As he said that, a black smoke entered the room through the door at the top of the stairs, and moved towards Dean.

Then it entered him. He could still see everything, but he wasn't himself anymore.

He felt himself grin, "Now where were we? Oh, right. Could you make Sam talk again?"

"Gladly." Lucifer said, and then Sam became conscious once more, "What's going on?"

"Mm, nothing, Sammy. It's just Dean. Here to kill you."

"…Dean?"

Dean felt himself nod, and he moved towards his brother, holding the knife in his hands. He smiled, and then put the blade of the knife beneath Sam's chin, lifting his head up slightly.

"Sammy, little Sammy, you've always been such a bother." Dean said, "You want me to kill you, right? I'll gladly do it."

"What's gotten into you!?"

"Nothing. What's gotten into you? Other than the devil himself. Honestly, I thought you were better than this. You're weak. You've always been weak." Dean tried everything to stop himself from talking, "Finally I'll be rid of you."

Sam said softly, "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Of course you're sorry. You're nothing! You've never done anything right. You sicken me, Sam."

"Dean, what's going on?"

"It's just… I've finally got the choice. Whether you live or die. And this time, unlike all the other times, I'm going to pick the right one. You're going to die today, Sammy!" Dean laughed.

Sam stared at him, with soulful, worried eyes, "…I—I trust you Dean."

"You shouldn't. But, it really is me, don't worry. It's your brother. Well, I haven't regarded you as a brother for the longest time. We're not brothers, Sam. I don't love you."

Dean tried everything he could to stop talking, to just tell Sam he didn't mean any of the words coming out of his mouth. He looked at Sam, saw how hurt his brother was. He looked so defenceless… he had to protect him, he had to stop this!

"You don't mean that."

No, he didn't! Dean wanted to scream, but instead what came out was, "I do, Sammy. I'll be glad to be rid of you."

He smiled at his younger brother, and then finally said, "Oh alright, you got me. I'm just joking around. Come here."

He stepped towards his brother, arms open, and then he hugged him, despite Sam not being able to hug back. But as he held him, Dean could feel the malicious intent from the demon possessing him, and he tried all he could to move his body, to just get away from Sam…!

"We'll get out of this, Sammy! Your big brother would never hurt you. We'll save the world for the umpteenth time, and everything will be sunshine and rainbows and unicorns!"

"Dean," Sam began worriedly, "Please, what's happening?"

Dean traced the knife up Sam's back, and began to cut into him, "You feel that Sammy? That's going to cut into your heart, and we'll save the world. You're the problem, Sam. It's always been you."

"Dean!" Sam gasped, as the knife went deeper into his back, and his breathing became more laboured.

Dean smiled and forced the knife to the hilt in his brother's back. No! Dean tried to shout, but instead he laughed.

"Bye, Sammy! Have a nice time in Hell! Too bad Lucifer won't be joining you this time. Still, it's your fault he's here. It's always your fault."

"Dean… I'm…" Sam began, but wasn't able to finish his sentence.

Dean stepped back, and watched as the light faded from his baby brother's eyes. They turned cold, and Lucifer smiled.

"Well done, Dean!" Lucifer clapped his hands together, "Sammy's gone now."

The demon left him then, and Dean crumpled to his knees. His baby brother was dead. He'd killed him. He'd killed Sam. He killed Sam. He felt tears well up in his eyes. What had he _done!?_ He didn't deserve to be living. He'd killed his baby brother.

He could hardly think. Lucifer put a hand on his shoulder, grinning widely. Sam was gone. There was no way- he'd killed him. He'd killed Sammy. Dean had killed his brother. The one thing he had spent his life trying not to do. He was supposed to protect him!

He was supposed to keep him safe from harm. To comfort him when times got bad. To always be there for him. He was his big brother! He was supposed to protect him! Instead, he'd just killed him. Dean stared at the ground, then at the knife in his hands. His brother's blood was on it. Dean threw it aside with a sharp breath.

It can't have happened. This was a dream. He never would've killed Sam. He never would've killed his Sammy. He was dreaming. He'd wake up, and Sam would be asleep in his own bed, back in the motel. Maybe he'd wake up, ask Dean what was wrong.

Dean would reply everything was fine. He'd never want to worry his brother. Sam would turn around and go back to sleep. And Dean would know he'd dreamt it all.

Why wasn't he waking up!?

Dean took a shuddering breath, still staring at the ground. There were drops of blood on it. Drops of his brother's blood. His brother was dead. He'd killed his brother. Still, it was just a nightmare of course, of course it was, what else could it be? There was no other explanation!

He would never have killed his brother. He didn't. He hadn't. Sammy was alive. His precious baby brother was alive. Yet… why was he awake? Why was he awake and Sam was dead? This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to keep him safe. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

He killed him. He killed his little brother.

Lucifer stepped back from Dean, "Didn't you want to leave now?"

Dean said nothing as his brother's voice grated against his ears.

"No? If you don't say anything, I can't let you go, Dean."

Still, Dean stared at the ground in shock, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Geez, fine. Be that way. I'll see you later, Dean-o."

At that, Lucifer left, leaving Dean alone, unchained. He could escape but… what was the point? Sammy was gone. He couldn't save him. He killed him. His brother was dead and it was all his fault.

Why was this happening? What had he ever done to deserve this?

"Damn it!" Dean yelled and pounded his fist into the ground. Blood darted from the immediate wounds on his knuckles, and he ignored it. He couldn't even see the ground anymore, tears formed so quickly in his eyes.

He'd killed his baby brother.

Dean lay down on the cold, stone floor, the hunger in his stomach only growing, the pain on his heart now divided literally and figuratively… it all made him feel as though he should simply die.

That would solve everything, wouldn't it?

He should just die.

The knife was right there.

 _ **A/N you guys are going to hate me (if you don't already) but this is the last chapter i'll be posting for a while... ill update in about a month though. Nanowrimo's finally over and i really really just need a break from writing for some time (I wrote 65,783 words in november for my own novel!)**_

 _ **So, expect an update in around a month or so.**_

 _ **And leave a review! I absolutely love reading them... Even if you're just yelling at me because i just killed Sammy.(BTW DON'T BE TOO WORRIED, OKAY? I HAVE A PLAN!)  
**_


	13. The Room Looked Empty

_Ding!_ Sam's phone rang out, indicating he had a message.

Lindsey was lying beside him, and she glanced at his phone, "Who is it?"

Sam opened his messages, and saw that Dean had texted him: _Went to the cemetery on the edge of town to talk to Andy. Don't wait up._

Lindsey pawed at Sam's bare chest, "You know it's rude to be on the phone when you're in bed with a beautiful woman."

Sam smiled slightly, "It's just my brother."

"Ooh, scandalous."

"Really, Lindsey?" Sam scoffed and then climbed on top of her, setting down the phone and murmuring, "I'd rather you not talk about my brother when we just had sex."

Lindsey put a finger to his lips as he began to lean in, "Nuh uh, one round's enough for tonight. I've got an early day tomorrow and it's already eleven. Feel free to sleep here, but you're not sleeping with me. Well, if you catch my drift."

Sam sighed and rolled back onto his back.

"I just said you're not sleeping with me." Lindsey said, annoyed.

"What?" Sam turned to look at her.

"You heard me. You get the floor." Lindsey pointed at the floor beside the bed, which was littered with items.

"Um—"

Lindsey grinned, "You are too gullible." She cuddled up to him, her eyes sparkling, "You're really adorable, Sam."

Sam sighed. He'd never win with her. He let himself rest, his arm around Lindsey, and he began to wonder if Dean was all right. He was capable, of course, but still, neither of them knew who they were dealing with. They were supposed to confront Andy together. Why had he suddenly gone off on his own?

It was with those thoughts that he drifted off to sleep, only to awaken to his cell phone alarm. He looked around, and realized Lindsey had already gone. He got out of her bed, and picked up his clothes from the floor, and began to put them on.

God, why did he keep coming back to her? Even after he'd found out she'd been cheating on Andy with him, he still slept with her. He was an awful person, wasn't he? Sam groaned, and he pulled on his socks. How can he be so stupid?

He checked his phone once more, and realized he hadn't replied to Dean's message. He sighed, and then tried calling him.

There was no answer.

Starting to get more than a little worried, he left Lindsey's house, buttoning up his shirt as he went. He noticed Lindsey's car wasn't in the driveway, and he wondered where she'd gone. Normally she'd been around when he'd woken up on other days.

He decided not to think much of it, and got into the impala. As fast as the law would allow him (at times a little bit faster if he was being honest), he drove to the motel he and Dean were staying at. He quickly got to his room, and opened the door.

The room looked empty.

Or it would've had Dean not left his clothes all over Sam's bed, and wasn't snoring lightly in the other one. Sam sighed, he should've guessed. He'd worried for nothing, then. He flipped on the lights, and Dean groaned.

"Five more minuss…" Dean slurred, "Jus' gimme' five more minutes Sammy…" Sam rolled his eyes and sat down on his own bed, moving the clothes off to the side. Still, Sam was eager to find out what had happened at the cemetery the night before.

"Come on, Dean. Get up."

"Five."

" _Dean._ "

Dean just pulled the covers up above his head. Sam stood up, and his footsteps clattered on the wood floor as he walked up to Dean's bed, and yanked the covers off.

Dean grunted when the cold air hit his skin, and he curled up into a ball, "I said five minutes, Sam."

"It's been five minutes."

"No…"

"You fell back asleep. Now get up." Sam flicked on the radio, and finally, Dean began to sit up.

"What time is it?"

"A little after seven."

"Jesus Christ, Sammy, I had an alarm for nine," Dean fell back onto his bed with a groan, "Give me back my blanket."

"Nope," Sam said with a grin, "Come on, seven isn't early."

"Maybe not for you. But today I was allowed to sleep in."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you were off with that girl all night."

Sam sighed, "So?"

"Well…? What you guys do?" Dean grinned teasingly.

"I'm not divulging my sex life to my brother."

Dean chuckled and finally got up. He stretched and then rubbed his eyes, "Aw come on, at least tell me if she's flexible."

"Sure, now moving on—"

Dean grinned.

" _Moving on_ ," Sam insisted, "What was with that message you sent me?"

"Message?"

"You know… going to the cemetery? You said Andy had something to tell you?"

"Oh right," Dean sighed, "Turned out to be a hoax. He never showed."

Sam back down on the other bed, "Seriously? Why do you think he didn't?"

"No clue. Anyways, it was late, so I just came back here and went to bed." Dean ran a hand through his hair, "What do you think we should do now?"

"Well, we'd agreed to meet with him today anyways, so let's head over to his house. I got his address from Lindsey."

"Okay! Great, let's go talk to the kid then." So, Dean got ready and once he was dressed, the two of them set out to Andy's place.

Dean was smiling most of the way there, earning Sam's curiosity. He couldn't tell what his brother could be so happy about. He just brushed it aside; after all, what was the harm of him smiling?

But, no sooner had Dean parked the car in Andy's driveway, than Andy's front door had burst open, and said man ran down the driveway towards them. He had a frantic look in his eyes, and he pounded on the window until Dean finally opened it.

"Agents, oh thank god."

Sam got out of the car on the other side, and held up his hands in an attempt to calm the young man, "Andy? What's going on?"

He turned to face him, eyes wide, "I- last night I- they tried to…"

Dean, now able to get out of the car, did so and asked, "They… They what?"

"It had these- these black eyes. It… it got into my house."

"Just calm down," Sam said, coming over to him, "Let's just go inside and talk, alright Andy?"

"O-Okay," He replied, taking quick breaths. Shakily, he stepped away from the car, and towards his home.

As soon as his back was turned Dean turned to Sam, "Still think he's a demon, Sammy?"

"Can't be too sure. You got the holy water?"

Dean nodded, and as they began to follow Andy into his house, he took out his flask and poured a generous amount of holy water onto his hand.

"Hey Andy?" Dean said, and put his hand on Andy's shoulder.

"Yeah?" He turned, and then pursed his eyebrows, "Why's your hand wet?"

Dean exchanged a look with Sam and drew his hand back, "Nothing, never mind. How about you sit down then and you can tell us what happened."

Andy nodded, and sat down on one of the couches in his living room. Dean and Sam sat down opposite him, both looking attentive- well Sam more than Dean, but that may have been because Dean had noticed there was a platter of chocolate cookies on the coffee table.

"So, Andy, tell us what happened."

"Well… last night, I just… thought about it a lot. The idea of demons. I mean, I thought it was a trick of the light, but… I saw someone's eyes turn black."

"Who?"

Andy took a shaky breath, "My… she broke into my house. I was just about to leave t-to go to the graveyard."

"Quick question," Sam cut him off, "Why the graveyard?"

"I just… I don't even know. Look, she was trying to kill me!"

"Who?"

"My girl- my… _ex_ -girlfriend."

Sam's eyes widened, "Your ex was…"

"A demon. She's a demon."

"That's impossible."

Dean crossed his arms, and then whispered to Sam, "Uh… are you sure you were with her all night?"

"Yes! I mean… I fell asleep a little after you texted me, but—"

"What time did Lindsey show up at your place?" Dean cut him off.

Andy leaned back into his couch and thought for a moment before answering, "It was about eleven-thirty. I know I'd called you to meet me at eleven, but… well, I got a bit scared. I had to really will myself to go, and then, _she_ showed up. She… had a knife. Lindsey told me she… she was here to finish me off, like," At this Andy's voice began to crack, "Like she did my mom."

Sam's face paled, "You're… sure it was Lindsey?"

"Positive. I know who my ex-girlfriend is. I mean… first she blows off my marriage proposal and now, she's trying to kill me!"

Sam blinked, "The marriage proposal."

"Yeah?"

"How'd you do it?"

"Oh I uh, I just met up with her, and asked."

"Where's the ring?"

"I threw it away when I found out she didn't want to marry me."

"Where'd you propose?" Sam asked.

"God, what's with all these questions!? None of this matters! She's a freaking demon, and she _killed my mom_. How about we focus on that and not the place she rejected me!?" Andy scowled, "Why does it matter where the hell I proposed to Lindsey? The fact of the matter is, she's a demon. She's a killer, and you need to stop her. That's your job, right?"

Dean looked at Sam sympathetically, and then replied to Andy, "Yeah. Don't you worry, Andy, we'll stop her."

"Good." Andy crossed his arms, and glared at Sam, "Now, tall guy, how's about you answer why my girlfriend was cheating on me with you?"

 _ **A/N at this point im going to guess y'all are all very confused. Don't worry, it'll all make sense eventually. Now i'm going to be updating every two weeks (still Tuesdays) so i have more time to write and edit. I'm currently working on my novel a lot as well, so not as much time for fanfic ^^**_


	14. Sense

The knife was right there. Dean picked it up, weighing it in his hand. It wouldn't be hard. Just… a quick little movement.

That's all it would take. Would anyone really even notice anyways? It was a simple feat. But it would end this torment.

He gripped it tightly, and then brought it down.

He poked one of the chocolate cookies on the table and lifted it up on the end of the knife, not having been able to reach the cookie without it. He brought it to himself and picked the cookie off the knife and put the latter down. He quickly bit into the cookie, and let out a slight moan of pleasure. Ugh, it was just so good.

No one had noticed. Andy was staring intently at Sam, who was shifting uncomfortably beneath his gaze.

"Well? Why did I find out she was with _you_?"

"I… Andy, look, I'm sorry, but she didn't tell me she was dating anyone."

"Yeah right."

"Besides, apparently she's a demon, so, maybe that factors in to why she cheated on you," Dean clued in to the conversation.

"Not helping, Dean." Sam curtly responded, "Listen, Andy, she didn't tell me. I just found out yesterday."

"That's how you knew her last name yesterday!" Andy scowled, "God, I'm an idiot."

"She fooled both of us."

"Oh really? Then once you found out about me dating Lindsey, didn't you go and _sleep with her again_!?" Andy growled.

"H-how did you…"

"She told me when she came to my house. She told me the truth before trying to kill me, for whatever reason." Andy shook his head, "I can't believe this."

"Again, she was a demon who killed your mom," Dean spoke up, "Are you really sure you mind?"

"Can… can you fix her? Do you think she only cheated on me because she was a demon?"

"Maybe," Dean nodded, despite Sam's annoyed expression, "But yeah, we can exorcise the demon and maybe then she'll accept your proposal."

Andy sighed, and looked at Sam, "I can't believe you'd… you'd be with a demon. That's just disgusting. Hell if you were really a demon hunter you should've been able to spot what she really was."

"But I… she touched holy water. She wasn't a demon." Sam assured, "When I was with her, she was human."

"Oh! Even better then, turns out she wasn't under the influence of _hell_ when she slept with you! How lovely." Andy mocked him, "You're a disgrace."

Sam just leaned back in his chair, looking down. Andy was right, in some ways. Even after he'd found out Lindsey was dating him, he still slept with her. Wait… no, that's right, Lindsey and Andy didn't actually break up…

"Andy?"

"Mm?"

"Why did you say she rejected your proposal?"

"Because she… did?"

"She didn't. You didn't even see her the day your mom died."

Andy scoffed, "And how would you know that? I saw her and she rejected me, then I went to my mom's. That's all."

"Lindsey told me she didn't see you that day. She didn't break it off with you, and actually you sent her a message…" Sam stared straight into Andy's eyes, "Do you remember what you said?"

He stared at Sam, not blinking.

"No. I don't. But, well, can you blame me? My mom died that day. I don't remember what I texted Lindsey, but I _did_ meet up with her that day."

"Then why is it such a big deal for you to tell me where you met?"

"We met at her house."

"What was she doing when you came over?"

"I don't know! I don't freaking know, what the hell does it matter? You're just berating me with no basis, and I—"

"I don't think you're telling the truth about Lindsey."

Dean then nudged Sam, "Dude, I know you were banging her, but I think it's pretty obvious she's the demon."

Sam shook his head, "The day of Ms. Taylor's death, Lindsey was at home watching Netflix all day. She didn't see Andy once, nor did she even know about Ms. Taylor's death. She wasn't possessed when I spoke to her either, I mean, hell she even drank the holy water. She told me Andy sent her a single text the day Ms. Taylor died, and it said, 'I love you. This isn't your…" Sam faltered.

"Well? This isn't your what, Sammy?"

Sam's face fell, "This isn't your fault."

After a moment's silence, Andy spoke up, "Agents… I'm sorry I should've told you…" His voice cracked, "I did send that text. I knew she was a demon all along. I knew what she did, and that she never would've done it if she was in her right mind." He sniffled, "I just love her so much, you know?"

Sam shook his head, "That can't be true."

"It's okay, Sammy. I mean, it's not the first demon who's tricked you." Dean said.

Sam's mind immediately flashed to Ruby, and he sank down further in his seat. He just couldn't believe that Lindsey was… that she was evil. It couldn't be right, that just made no sense. None of this made any sense! Andy knew all along? Lindsey was a freaking _demon?_ Yet he couldn't figure out why was he so insistent in suspecting Andy? He'd done nothing to earn that. He'd probably been through the worst of the whole ordeal.

"I'm sorry, Andy."

"Apology not accepted. Now can you and your brother go… get rid of that demon? Or will you just mess everything up, as I expect you might?"

"Yeah, we'll exorcise her."Dean gave Andy a mock-salute, "You can count on us."

Andy picked up a cookie from the table and bit into it, "Good. I want my Lindsey back."

Sam stared at the ground as they began to leave Andy's house. Dean was chewing on a half of a cookie that Sam just noticed. When did he get that?

Andy stood at the doorway, "Break a leg, agents. I'll call you if anything happens."

They got into the car, and Sam took off his jacket. He took a few things out of his pockets, including his EMF detector and then looked at it curiously.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"The EMF is going down. Meaning it was higher a moment ago."

"What's that mean?"

"Guess we encountered a ghost or something… that's really weird."

"That, or it's the power lines. Anyway, should we head over to Lindsey's?"

Sam didn't respond for a moment, but then said softly, "It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Everything. The EMF. Andy. The text. Why didn't he mention it earlier if he… if he knew Lindsey was the killer? Why did he say he proposed to her? It just seems fishy."

Dean patted Sam's shoulder, "You overthink things, little brother. Now come on, time to meet the demon you've been sleeping with. Again. Don't tell me your drinking her blood now, too?"

Sam stared at his brother, appalled, "What brought that on?!"

"It's just… it seems like it's always like this with you, Sam. You always end up doing all the wrong things."

"Just yesterday you were egging me to go to bed with her! Why are you acting like this?"

Dean started the car, "You just should've known, Sam. Let's move on."

"Yeah. Let's." Sam buckled his seatbelt, "I don't know where Lindsey might be. When I woke up she wasn't around."

"She have a job?"

"Well, she goes to law school… we could check out her campus, I suppose."

"Law school? Huh. So she's a nerd."

The brothers began their drive to the University of Kansas, and as Sam watched Dean's smiling face, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

 _ **A/N: Please review! It really motivates me to keep going with this story, and I really want to know what you guys think of the past few chapters. What do you think is going on?**_


	15. Christo

_I'm so sorry, Sammy._

 _I'll be with you soon._

The impala's engine purred. Dean was bobbing his head to the beat of _Thunderstruck_ by AC/DC, mouthing the words. Sam was shaking his head, smiling ever so lightly as he watched his older brother dance to the song.

At first glance, everything seemed perfectly normal. Expected, even. But something was wrong. It had to be, there was no way everything was right. This thought etched itself so deeply into Sam's brain that he felt as though if everything truly was alright, he wouldn't believe it.

He tried to make sense of it all. His conclusion kept leading back to Andy trying to trick the two of them, but he hadn't reacted to the holy water, and hell, he'd lost his mom; that had to have taken some sort of toll on him. But no matter what he did, he couldn't imagine Lindsey being the demon.

Then, once more, how had she gotten past the holy water? Did she just not drink it, and pretend she did? Andy wouldn't have been able to do that, since Dean had touched his shoulder with the water.

He thought he'd gotten to know Lindsey. He was damn near positive she wasn't capable of hurting anyone that badly. Even if she was a cheater, to kill someone is definitely a few steps above what Sam believed she could handle. And for the thousandth time, why did the demon kill Ms. Taylor? Why did they specifically want to tell Sam they were back?

And back from where? Where were they before? There were too many unanswered questions, and as Dean pulled up into the University's campus, Sam hadn't been able to an answer a single one.

"There's her car!" Sam said, pointing at a blue sedan.

"Should we wait around until her classes are over?"

"Yeah, I guess." And yet another question perched itself on Sam's mind. If Lindsey was a demon, why would she be going to class? There'd be no point.

"Well great, guess this gives us a chance to talk." Dean turned down the volume on his music, until it was just a dull blare.

"Talk about what?"

Dean didn't look at Sam, "It's just... Sam, I don't believe you really didn't know about Lindsey."

"What!? What would make you think that?!"

"We've been through this before, Sam! You always make these mistakes, and I don't know if I can trust you. Actually, scratch that. I can't. I can't trust you anymore Sammy. Things like this just keep happening, and you always say, 'I didn't know.' That excuse doesn't work anymore."

"But- Dean, what's come over you…?" Sam said in a worried tone, "I thought… I thought we were past this?"

"I never forgave you, Sam."

Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"You constantly make the wrong decisions. Why should I trust you?"

Sam stared at his brother, unblinking, "We're… we're family, Dean."

"Are we?"

"What the hell are you trying to say, Dean!?"

Dean took a deep breath, "You should have stayed in the pit with Lucifer."

Sam threw open the impala door, and stepped outside. He peered in through the window.

"Look, Dean, I don't know what's come over you, but this isn't like you. Now, you stay here in case Lindsey comes by, I'm going to scope out the campus."

"Sam—"

Sam had already walked away. If he'd turned around, Dean would have caught a glimpse of the distraught expression on his face.

Sam put his hands in his jacket pockets, and stared at the university in front of him. For a moment he wondered what Stanford would've been like. Then the thought passed and Dean's words struck him once more.

How could he say that?! Yet, it felt true. Dean couldn't trust Sam. And why should he? He's right. Sam's always just been a freak. A monster. It made sense that Dean viewed Sam the way Sam viewed himself.

He took a quick breath, and took out his phone. He opened his messages and began typing a message to Lindsey.

 _Where are you? I'm near your university, thought I'd say hi._

He waited a few minutes, just awkwardly standing near the entrance of the university, before his phone finally buzzed.

 _Wut r u doin here? If your really that eager, I guess I can cut class and meet u in the supply coffee, but its usually taken. Well have to wait in line._

After a moment it buzzed again, _**closet. Dam autocorrect._

Sam smiled slightly, and wrote back.

 _Meet me in front of the school? I wanted to ask you something._

He didn't get an answer, so he waited around a few minutes, before deciding she wasn't going to show.

He was about to turn and leave, planning to just go back to the impala and wait with Dean, when the doors burst open and Lindsey came out.

She was wearing a shirt with the slogan "Game-changer' on it and Sam vaguely recalled Andy wearing a similar one.

"Heya Sam! What, you couldn't wait for my classes to be over, huh?" She flipped her hair back and grinned, "It's not like we were doing anything important anyways."

Sam looked at her, disbelief flooding his mind. She couldn't be a demon, there was just no way. He can't have messed up that badly… again. He found himself pleading to God that she was just a human.

"My brother actually, um, wanted to meet you."

"That sounds like an awkward threesome. Sorry, I'm not into the whole 'incest' thing. But, you do you, Sam."

"No, I mean, he just wants to chat, is all."

"Well that's boring," She pouted, crossing her arms, "You dragged me out of class to actually talk? Huh."

"It's about Andy."

"This again!? Honestly, why do you care so much about my boyfriend—"

"My brother's a cop. He was investigating Ms. Taylor's death, and well, he wanted to ask you some questions."

Lindsey let her arms fall to her sides, "Oh. Right, of course. I guess I can talk to him then."

Sam led her towards the impala, and then making sure he could see if she made any movement at all, he said a single word.

"Christo."

 _ **A/N: Okay, I get it. It's a Friday. But you know what? I'm going to be updating somewhat erratically**_ __ _ **over the next short while because WHY NOT? I mean, y'all aren't complaining right? I'll have another chap up Tuesday as well, don't worry.**_

 _ **Review?**_


	16. A Cage of Self-Hate Created

**A/N: Because it might matter, I wanted to share the fact that this fanfiction is set in season seven. However, the leviathans probably won't be mentioned... and a lot of other plot points won't be mentioned either. This fic differentiates from canon, and I'm going to exclude the stuff that probably won't be important to my plot.**

 **But basically where this story takes place is a little while after the halucifer arc. Cool cool?**

"Christo."

She flinched.

The rest was instinct. Sam drew Ruby's knife, and pinned Lindsey against the wall, holding it against her throat.

Lindsey's eyes turned black and she grinned at him, "I was wondering when you'd find out."

Sam scowled at her, "How long were you—"

"Oh, the whole time. Let me just say you are _fantastic_ in bed, Sammy."

He pushed the knife closer to her throat, "Why? Why did you kill Ms. Taylor? Why pretend to be Lindsey?"

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Answer me." He growled, piercing her skin. She hissed as the blade burned her.

"You're supposed to be our leader, Sam. The boy king. You've always been one of us. Hell, even your brother knows it. You're not even human…" She grinned, and then laughed, "You can't run from fate."

"I've done it before. Lucifer's in the cage, if you've forgotten already."

"Is he? Are you sure?"

Sam faltered, "You're bluffing."

She chuckled, "Why would I say that if it wasn't true? The cage is open again, Sammy…"

"…What?"

"Lucifer is free."

"I'll just beat him like I did last time then!" Sam shouted, but his voice was unsure.

"Good luck," She laughed, "Tell me, Sam… do you remember what happened after your brother texted you last night?"

"I went to sleep."

"Ooh, so close. Lucifer was in control of your mind then, Sam… you're his vessel. And you'll always be his vessel!" She laughed wildly, and Sam felt something brush against the back of his head. He began to grow dizzy, and his vision blurred. The world didn't seem real for a moment.

The blade fell out of his hands, and Sam fell shortly after, collapsing onto the ground. Two people stood above him. Lindsey… and someone else… he knew that person, why couldn't his eyes just focus!?

His eyes began to close, though he tried everything to keep them open. This couldn't be happening.

It just… didn't make sense.

Nothing made sense.

He opened his eyes. The first thing that he registered was the stench of blood. But as his eyes adjusted to the dimness around him he began to stand up. His breathing became laboured when he grasped what was going on.

There were hundreds of them. People he didn't even know. All of them dead. Their mangled corpses lay over one another and a dripping red knife was in Sam's hand. He gripped it, staring at what had happened.

At what he'd done.

He heard a voice then, Lucifer's voice. _I'm so proud of you, Sam._

 _You'll always be mine._ Sam clutched his head resisting the urge to shout at him, that he would never be his. This had to be a nightmare.

It felt like the cage.

…The cage?

His eyes widened. What if this was all a hallucination? It couldn't be true, after all. It's his mind playing tricks on him- perhaps Cas hadn't fully gotten rid of the hallucinations that had corrupted Sam's mind only a short time ago.

Sam pressed his nail into his left palm. For a second, the scent of rotting corpses disappeared, and in its place was the smell of books, and of dirt. It didn't stay long enough for Sam to connect it to anything, and was soon brought back to what he believed to be his hallucination.

He pressed his palm harder, nearly breaking the skin with his nail. This time he saw Dean lying among the corpses in front of him. He ran towards him, nearly tripping as he did so, but his brother's image disappeared just as quickly as he'd appeared.

 _What are you doing, Sam? Don't you get that there's no getting rid of me?_

He didn't say anything, and looked around. If this was a hallucination, then there had to be at least _something_ real. A way for him to climb back to the real world. Even the tiniest little thing… A frail rope can be a golden staircase to those who need it.

"I'm sorry."

Sam whirled around. That was Dean's voice. But where had it come from? He stepped over the bodies, trying to find a wall. He had to be either underground or in some sort of windowless building. Either way that wasn't good for him, and if Dean was somewhere here, he had to find him.

He had to get to his brother.

"Dean!" He shouted, and his voice echoed back to him, "Where are you!?"

 _Sam, your brother isn't here. It's just us._

He ignored the voice, "Dean!"

There was no response, but Sam didn't give up. He kept calling out for his brother as he looked for a wall. Finally, he hit a hard surface with his elbow and he immediately pressed his hands up against it.

The wall was smooth. It was some kind of cold, soft metal. It felt real. The bodies however, couldn't be. There was no way. Sam pounded the wall with his fist, and a sharp clang resounded from it. Sam took the knife he'd been holding, and then drew a long jagged line in the metal. He ran his fingers over it, memorizing the texture.

Sam let his right hand linger on the wall as he began to move. He walked forward, waiting for some sort of bump in the wall indicating a door, or a turn. After a few minutes he reached the far right corner and turned left, still keeping his hand on the wall.

He turned three more times, and eventually, his fingertips brushed over the serrated line he'd left in the metal; he'd reached the part where he'd started. His hand curled into a fist.

He took a deep breath, annoyed. Come on; there just had to be a way out. Where the hell was he?

"Dean! If you're here, answer me!"

And, just as before, he got no response from his brother. Instead, he heard Lucifer.

 _You killed him, Sam. You killed Dean._

"Shut up."

 _Oh, finally acknowledging me, are you? You know I could take over at any time…_

Sam took a sharp breath, deciding not to respond.

 _I can show you…_

Sam felt himself grow dizzy. He lost control of his body, but he could still see everything. He held up a hand in front of his face, and flexed his fingers.

"See Sam? If I were a hallucination, would I be able to do this?" He spun around with a wide grin on his face, "I'm back Sam, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

He still didn't believe it. It wasn't true. It couldn't be… he had to get out of here. He had to find Dean—

"Dean's dead, Sam!"

He's not.

"Oh, but he is. Why are you so stubborn?" His voice sounded annoyed, and he crossed his arms, "I'd show you, but I'm pretty sure there's nothing left of his body, we tore him into so many pieces. After all, I don't need him."

This isn't real.

Sam fought back with all he could, trying to regain control, and Lucifer just laughed, "I'll give you control back, but you can't cast me out. I'm right here with you, and I'll always be with you. You're mine, Sam."

Sam felt his head clear, and he took a few deep breaths. _What are you going to do now, Sam?_

He held up the knife he'd used to scratch the wall. _Are you going to kill yourself? That would be useless, Sam. I'll still be keeping you alive._

He shakily lifted up his left hand as well, face up. He poised the tip of the knife over it.

 _Sam, stop. You'll just be hurting yourself unnecessarily._ Lucifer sounded confused.

Sam gripped the knife, and then slammed it down into his hand.

He let out a sharp gasp of pain as the metal embedded itself in his palm. He scrunched his eyes shut, and when he opened them… the view was entirely different.

He was lying in some sort of basement, but it was littered with catholic memorabilia: crosses, paintings, and religious books lined the walls. He took a quivering breath. What had just happened? Hell, what was going on now?

Lucifer's voice was gone.

Sam tried to get to his feet, but realized he was tied up—that and the pain in his hand was gone. Why was it gone? He craned his neck, looking around a bit more.

Dean was laying on his side a few metres away from him. His eyes were closed and he was sweating profusely, muttering something.

Sam tried to focus, to hear what he was saying.

"I'm sorry Sam…" He said softly, "I'm sorry."

"Dean!" Sam shouted. "Wake up!"

Instead, Dean just shuddered, and continued muttering.

"Come on Dean…" Sam took a quick breath and looked around a bit more. There was a large doorway to his feet. It was open, and there was a spiral staircase leading upwards.

Why were they being kept here? Just what was going on? Sam tried to get out of his bonds, but whoever did them knew what they were doing.

Sam struggled against them to no avail. He couldn't get out. Come on, there had to be something… He froze.

He could hear footsteps coming from the floor above him.

 **A/N: And there we go, maybe part of the mystery of what's happening is clearer, but perhaps not. Next chapter if y'all are still confused I'll explain what happened to the Winchesters.**

 **What do YOU guys think happened?**


	17. This Was His Freedom

Adam sat in the front pew of the church. He looked up at the sculpture of Jesus on the cross. He'd been here before, so many times… back when he was still trapped in the cage. This church on the edge of the cemetery, long abandoned but still so beautiful.

It was small; there were only two rows of seats with one aisle through the middle. Most of the once-beautiful stained glass windows were smashed through, and the sculpture of Jesus at the front was crooked. The pews were old, though still sturdy. The floor was covered in dirt, and the Altar was covered in dust. An old rusty communion pan sat on top.

The two doors to the church weakly hung on their hinges, looking as though if they were even lightly touched, they'd crash to the ground. There was an aged piano as well, long out of tune, and beside it, an open door leading to the basement.

Why had God abandoned him? That was the first thought Adam had had when he'd been thrown into the pit. He wasn't overtly religious in his life, but he was still a theist. He was a good person—he should have gone to heaven. Instead, he was cast into Hell.

And now, the people who'd thrown him into that godforsaken place were being punished. Albeit, he didn't have much say in the exact nature of what happened, but he knew it was horror. They'd slowly and painfully die, watching their worst nightmares come true before their eyes.

Adam smiled. Djinn truly were amazing creatures, weren't they? He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have met her. Carla, the woman who came to examine Ms. Taylor's body, was a djinn. It was easy enough to convince her to help him with hurting two hunters, and not just any hunters, the _Winchesters._ She was ecstatic. Still, they did hit a minor detour when she only touched Dean at the coroner's office, but she made up for it.

Here's to hoping Sam didn't recognize the other person standing above him when Adam had possessed Lindsey. Still, it wouldn't really matter, would it? Even if he recognized Carla, there would be no way he'd know she was a djinn. Adam could hardly believe how perfect everything was going.

And the shapeshifter- god, the _shapeshifter_. They were brilliant. Absolutely brilliant, hell even for a moment Adam was fooled when he saw the shifter playing 'Dean.'

And Lucifer had no clue what was truly going on up on earth. Adam recalled his conversation with him and Michael yesterday.

 _Lucifer regarded him with astonishment, "Heya, Addy! Nice to see you up and about again."_

 _Michael just stared at the ground, as if hearing Adam's voice was somewhat painful._

 _"_ _Lucifer," Adam said as confidently as I could._

 _"_ _Adam."_

 _"_ _I… want to ask you something."_

 _"_ _Mm?"_

 _"_ _C-Castiel," Adam cursed his stutter, and tried to bring up his confidence once more, "If- if you were given the option, h-how would you kill him?"_

 _"_ _What brings this on?" Lucifer scoffed._

 _"_ _Tell me."_

 _Lucifer rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment, "Well, I'd probably burn him slowly in holy oil. But knowing that bastard, God would probably bring him back to life anyways."_

 _"_ _And also, uh, d-do you know of any shape shifters?"_

 _"_ _The hell would you want to know that for?" He sauntered up to Adam, "In case you haven't noticed, we're stuck in this cage. Even if I told you, what would be the point?"_

 _"_ _Humour me."_

 _Lucifer raised his eyebrows, looking at the boy incredulously, "Humour you? HUMOUR you? You're my toy! My little pet. But you know what? How about you do something for me. Then I'll tell you."_

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _Tell me why you want to know. Don't lie now."_

 _Adam chose his words carefully, "When I'm on earth, I want to get revenge on the Winchesters, as well as on Castiel."_

 _"_ _When- when you're on earth? Sorry to break it to you, but if you haven't realized yet, THERE'S NO WAY OUT OF HERE."_

 _Michael shook his head, and finally spoke, "If you know, just tell him. What harm could it do?"_

 _"_ _You know what? Fine! Fine, I'll tell you, kiddo. There's one I know of for sure. They're the bartender of a place called Hill's Brewery. Anything else pointless you'd like to know Adam?"_

 _"_ _N-no."_

 _"_ _Okay, now tell me the real reason you wanted to know this."_

 _"_ _I did."_

 _"_ _Liar." Lucifer growled, and moved his face closer to Adam's. "I don't like it when people lie to me, Adam."_

 _For the longest moment, Adam felt his heart stop._

 _Lucifer stared straight into his eyes, "I don't get you! You don't speak for centuries, and then all of a sudden you're asking me these ridiculous questions, and I just. Don't. Get it!"_

 _Michael piped up, "Well… you can't say he's boring anymore."_

 _Hearing that, a grin appeared on Lucifer's face, "No. No I can't. What else you have to say, Adam?"_

But Adam had tuned out, bringing himself back to earth.

 _"_ _Adam?"_

He laughed lightly at the memory. Since then, he hadn't been made to go back to the pit. He supposed it was because he had gotten more control over his soul. But now, he had the Winchesters trapped and dying, and he just had to wait it out.

But there was one little problem. Adam was _bored._ Now that he'd captured the Winchesters, he wasn't even part of the running anymore! It was all up to Carla's djinn magic. A part of him wanted to go downstairs, just whip out a blade and cut his half-brothers' throats... watch as the life drained from their frail human bodies.

No, that wouldn't be smart. But it would be a hell of a lot more interesting than waiting around for them to die.

He yawned, and then lay down on the pew. Well, he had one other thing to look forward to: Castiel. The angel who left him in hell.

He knew a djinn's spell wouldn't work on him, so he'd devised a few different ideas as to how he'd settle their little… disagreement.

Judging from the relationship Castiel had with the Winchesters, he'd soon try to come and 'save' them. That's when he'd get his chance. He didn't have as much of a personal connection to the angel, so he'd decided to just simply kill him. In the most painful way possible, just as Lucifer had suggested.

He wondered if the shifter could help him out with this one- but well, he deserved a break. Or she. Did it really matter? After all, they were a different person every day.

For the time being though, Adam didn't think Castiel would show up within just a day of the Winchesters having been trapped. Hell, it would be truly awe-inspiring if he did. After all, Castiel did go to _such lengths to free Sam..._ and left him alone.

Adam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had to keep a clear head. After all, that was what was keeping him on earth. So long as he was calm, collected... everything would be fine. But still, as he heard the mutterings of the Winchesters from downstairs- ramblings from their nightmares, he began to grow more fidgety.

Damn it! He jumped off the pew and onto his feet, and walked up and down the aisle of the church. He had to do something. He was growing mad with boredom. He glanced at the front doors of the church- one of them was crooked, nearly falling off, and he ran towards it.

He hit it so that it swung open—the hinges creaked loudly, and light flooded the dark church. Adam closed his eyes.

This was his freedom.

He stepped out into the cemetery, and a bird flew away from him, the flutter of wings echoing in the emptiness.

He remembered seeing this graveyard from the pit... how surreal it had been that first time. Dream-like. But he was really here, standing in the cemetery he'd both fallen and risen from.

He leaned against the wall of the church, breathing in the scent of wet dirt and flowers. It always awed him that a place where the dead are kept could be so beautiful. So clean.

There was a shout from inside the church, but he disregarded it. One of the Winchesters was dreaming... that's all. Adam grinned and then sat down, the wet grass seeping through his jeans immediately. He'd never have to go back to the pit. He was free, and even the people who'd hurt him, well he was even with them. As even as he could get.

Nothing could compare to what he'd been through. What they all had put him through for not trying to help him. For abandoning him.  
He took a deep breath, and looking quickly at the beautiful blue sky, he stood up and brushed himself off. He really should focus.

Adam stepped back inside the church, and carefully adjusted the door so it looked somewhat shut- but he supposed it would never fully close.

He laid down on one of the pews once more, and closed his eyes. Shouts filled his head, desperate cries for help, and of guilt.

"Dean, Sam, help me," Adam mocked, "I need you."

He smirked.

Whatever happened next, at the very least, he wouldn't let it be boring.

 _ **A/N: So... what do y'all think? I was pretty tentative about posting this chapter, but um... please review, I'd really love to hear your thoughts! ^^**_


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